


I Only Answer To You.

by djjdkim



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ancient History, Ancient Korea, Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Goryeo, Historical, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, M/M, Romance, kinda action i guess, kyungsoo is a general, sehun is a prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 37,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djjdkim/pseuds/djjdkim
Summary: General Do Kyungsoo is one of the best trained soldiers of the Royal Army, known for usually accompanying the King-- so naturally, he's not very happy when he's assigned to escort (babysit) the youngest (and brattiest) Prince when travelling between cities.Kyungsoo didn't expect to run into trouble-- and Sehun didn't expect Kyungsoo to fight with his life on the line to protect him. Sehun most certainly didn’t expect to fall for him.





	1. I only answer to you

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the 9th year of King Sukjong's reign in Goryeo (Ancient Korea), in the year 1104.  
> The capital city of Goryeo is Gaegyeong. The Southern capital is Namgyeong. The major city in the West of Goryeo is Pyongyang. The Jurchen tribes are from the North and East.  
> The Byeolmuban is the overarching name for the military army/divisions at the time.
> 
> Major characters:  
> Crown Prince Wang Wu, 2nd Prince Wang Pil, 5th Prince Wang Hyo, 6th Prince Wang Seo, 7th Prince Wang Gyo (all Queen Myeongui's sons).  
> (The King only has 3 wives, Queen Myeongui (Yoo clan), Princess Wonshin (Incheon Lee), and Royal Consort Inmok Deok-Bi (Naju Oh clan-- Sehun's mother)).
> 
> (Don't worry you don't need to memorise this, I do continuously restate who they all are.)  
> (Please don't get bored of it I put alot of work and time and pi ttam nun mul into this fic ;;;;;;)

There's a sharp rap on the wooden hinges of his door, and he answers without bothering to look up from the candlelit parchment.

He vaguely registers the heavy footsteps moving into his room, stopping before his desk, before the telltale slight clanking of metal follows, the soldier kneeling into a bow.

“General,” he greets, and Kyungsoo rolls up the parchment, gently allowing him to rise from the floor.

“What is it?”

“These are the King’s orders regarding tomorrow's journey to the Southern Capital Namgyeong.”

The soldier rises to hand Kyungsoo the scroll with both arms extended, head remaining bowed, and Kyungsoo nods at him in acknowledgement, unfurling the paper.

The soldier stands straight before Kyungsoo's wooden desk with his hands clasped in front of him and his head bowed-- and would have been startled out of his skin when Kyungsoo speaks up after a long, drawn out silence.

“Are you sure?”

He immediately bends lower at his waist. “Sorry, Sir?”

If he chanced a glance up at Kyungsoo, he'd find him frowning down at the scroll, thick brows slanted in skepticism.

“Are you sure these are the King’s orders?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Kyungsoo stays silent for a moment longer, eyes continually scanning the same few sentences as though it would explain itself. Eventually the soldier, knowing the General’s kind and fair nature, dares to speak up quietly again.

“Is there a problem, General?”

“Why am I escorting the twelfth Prince?”

The soldier looks up, blinking confusedly at Kyungsoo who also seems to be blinking confusedly at the scroll.

“Sorry?”

“Tomorrow, for the journey, I am to serve and protect the youngest Prince, Sehun?” Kyungsoo mumbles, looking up at the soldier as though he has the answers to his questions. “Why am I not assigned to the King, or any of the Queens? Or leading the progression?”

The soldier opens and closes his mouth in an attempt to devise an answer, but comes up blank.

“I don't know, General.”

  
  


Kyungsoo lets his eyes sweep over the ranks of soldiers gathered around him before stepping up into the stirrup and swinging himself onto his horse in one smooth move, feeling the familiar fluttering of his bright red cape behind him.

He wordlessly raises a hand before digging his heels in, the sounds of his mare trotting off soon accompanied by many other hooves and even more feet. He rides ahead for a short moment, stopping by the grand golden carriage that seats the King, and although he had just gotten on his horse, he’s quick to dismount and kneel in the dust beside the carriage.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” his thick voice carries out, strong and loud. “Preparations for the journey have been completed, if you wish to set off.”

The King waves a dismissive hand in his direction, prompting Kyungsoo to stand again. With a simple one-word response, Kyungsoo jumps back onto his horse, letting a Commander of the army take his position beside the King, admittedly with a slight bitterness.

He hears the thundering of the drums, barely notices the Royals all climbing into their carriages and servants gathering around them in the swirls of lavish gowns and shining jewelry all around him. No, he sets his mind on moving to the very back of the group, where he is to stay for the duration of the journey-- and protect the youngest Prince.

Who is, of course, not on time.

Kyungsoo sighs, absentmindedly checking through his leather belt and all of his weapons and blades alike, ensuring his water flask is still tightly bound to the flank of his chestnut horse.

He’s just leaning forward to run his hand over the white splash on her forehead when he sees him in the corner of his eye.

Prince Sehun, sauntering up to the carriage at his own leisurely pace, despite the hurrying of his servants as they bustle around him, ready to lift it once Sehun’s comfortably seated inside.

“I’m a general,” Kyungsoo mutters quietly to himself. “Why am I babysitting the most insignificant member of the royal family?”

The Prince turns his face towards him, and Kyungsoo’s eyes take in the perfectly smooth, milky skin on his cheeks, sharp eyebrows and intense gaze, lips pursed as though consistently dissatisfied.

Kyungsoo quirks his lips up in a half-hearted smile, bending forward and dipping his head, feeling the red strings that shoot out of the tip of his helmet swing forwards with his movement.

“Greetings, Your Highness. I will be escorting you for this trip. Are you ready to head off?”

He isn’t surprised when Sehun simply nods in his direction before accepting the arm of a nearby servant and daintily climbing into his small wooden vehicle.

Kyungsoo straightens up once he notices that the curtain of the small window of the carrier is still drawn, considering the Prince with a shallow sigh. Though he understands the King wanted a reliable guard at the tail of the group, it doesn’t help the unfairness that makes him want to pout like a child, that makes him feel as though he deserves so much better than simply accompanying a bratty Prince.

And that’s what Kyungsoo begins to mutter under his breath, after they have left the capital city of Gaegyeong behind them and the exciting drums to accompany a Royal expedition has faded into the background.

Kyungsoo can’t help but grumble about the speed they’re moving at under the midday sun, so much hotter in comparison to the morning when they first departed--but then he glances down at the servants with the carrying poles of the platform the Prince sits upon sitting heavily on their shoulders and he would run a hand over his mare’s neck, suddenly thankful he at least had his own horse to carry him.

The scenery, however, is less than exciting--the path has given way to plains and gently sloping hills on either side of the dirt path that the procession follows as the route leading to the Southern Capital Namgyeong. Perhaps if he was galloping down the road he would at least feel the rush of a cool breeze on his face, lifting some of the heat that makes his heavy armour even more considerably stifling.

A movement in the carrier beside him catches his attention, and he rolls his eyes at the silhouette of the Prince swaying idly from side to side… reaching up to play with his ponytail… fumbling with the front of his pale blue robes.

“Brat,” he murmurs under his breath, shaking his head with a sigh. “I deserve better than spoilt Princes.”

All of a sudden the curtain is flung open beside him, and a pair of strong eyes bear into Kyungsoo’s with thin, slanted eyebrows furrowed at him.

“What did you just say?”

Kyungsoo scoffs. Sehun’s voice is low and velvety, so quiet that Kyungsoo nearly missed what he said. Though he doesn’t care much for what the Prince says, anyway. 

“Nothing, Your Highness.” Kyungsoo dips his head.

“I heard it!”

The General side-eyes him from his position on top of the horse-- and the revelation that he sits a little higher than Sehun’s eye-level, considering his mare is taller than the shoulders of the carriers, brings him some sort of strange satisfaction.

“Then why did you want me to repeat it?”

Prince Sehun simply sneers with nothing to strike back with, turning away but not letting the curtain fall between them again.

“Well you’ll sure enjoy your trip, General,” he hears the Prince mutter. “You’ll certainly love spending the entire day with me, isn’t that right?”

Kyungsoo scoffs softly at the blatant mockery despite being at a self-depreciating cost. “Most certainly, Your Highness. It is my  _ honour _ .”

He chances a glance over at the young Prince again, to find him shaking his head with a smirk of sorts on his lips-- he falls silent before he seems to decide that popping his head out of the carriage to talk to Kyungsoo for the sake of annoying the serious General will be his source of entertainment.

“General Do Kyungsoo, is it?”

Kyungsoo slightly bows in the Prince’s direction.

“How come I haven’t seen you around much, General?”

Kyungsoo side-eyes him once again incredulously. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, Your Highness. I am present every pastoral morning held in the Great Hall.”

“Are you accusing me of truancy?”

Kyungsoo turns back to look straight ahead, choosing to ignore the sharp tone of Sehun’s voice, that raises his voice just slightly. It’s still quiet, similar to Kyungsoo’s own, and he finds himself thinking that perhaps conversation with the Prince would not be so irritating without his air of arrogance when he speaks.

“I am not accusing you of anything, Your Highness.”

Sehun tuts, but still returns to the window of his carriage not much longer later, peering out the window at the General on his horse, doing his best to irritate the man with questions that he either already knows the answers to or doesn’t even care for-- perhaps as his own way of whiling away the time.

“So do you go to wars often, General?”

Kyungsoo sighs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“How many men do you command, General?”

“Three hundred thousand in the Royal Army, Your Highness.”

Sehun makes a noise that Kyungsoo assumes is surprise, but the flattery doesn’t raise his mood at all.

“So why’re you stuck with me then?”

“That’s a good question, Your Highness.” Kyungsoo responds, pursing his lips together. He only muttered a quiet “do you think I want to be stuck with you” under his breath, but then the Prince is pointing accusatory fingers at him for the second time, scowling.

“Hey, I heard that!”

At this, Kyungsoo simply rolls his eyes again, dipping his head briefly to the Prince. “Oh, my deepest apologies, Your Highness.”

Sehun leans away from the window, huffing. “You know you are a very rude man, General.”

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

Sehun falls quiet with another small indignant huff, and Kyungsoo cherishes the brief silence, because it doesn’t last too long.

“Why do you have a belt there?”

“To hold my double-edged sword and my short sword by the metal clip.”

Sehun glances down at the man’s belt, squinting to try to figure out which is which. “But don’t you already have a sword on your hip?” when Kyungsoo looks up at him with an expression of ridicule, he frowns, pointing at the sheath hanging off Kyungsoo’s side. “What’s that one then? What’s the difference between them?”

Kyungsoo groans at him, dragging a hand over his face, and Sehun cowers into himself. “Do you know  _ anything  _ about weaponry or martial arts?” Kyungsoo eventually says, exasperated.

To both of their surprise, Sehun bites on his bottom lip, averting his eyes rather than snap something equally rude back.

“Uh…. Not really?”

Kyungsoo simply looks at him, not sure whether it’s normal to feel this slight guilt, just a little, about the tinge of embarrassment the young Prince is trying to hide.

But even so, Kyungsoo huffs in dismissal when Sehun glances at him from his little window, mumbling “can you teach me then?”

“Um no.”

“Seriously, so rude,” Sehun whines in response, pointedly turning away with a pout hanging on his lips and Kyungsoo sighs. He isn’t paid enough for this.

He glances back over at the curtains drawn over Sehun’s little carriage and ponders why he seems to be so inept at everything-- it’s not hard for an intelligent General like Kyungsoo to figure out that the maknae Prince isn’t required to essentially do anything, and especially doesn’t stand a chance in the hierarchy within the infighting in the Royal family, leading to poor efforts in education. 

And that seems to have ruined Sehun. Kyungsoo glances over at the Prince once more, shaking his head the slightest at his bratty tones and stubborn whining.

  
  


Kyungsoo has his suspicions that it seems as though the silence between them and the rocking of the horse carriage has lulled Sehun into a light sleep, with one arm leaning out of the window and his head pillowed against it--because he’s randomly raising his head suddenly out of nowhere from his resting position, and Kyungsoo tries to hide his amusement at the lines on Sehun's face from the crinkles in his sleeve. He’s looking around and blinking slowly, before his sleep-blurred eyes catch on Kyungsoo and he nods politely at him.

“How long was I asleep?”

“I’m not sure, Your Highness. Perhaps a few hours.”

Sehun pouts a little, pulling his headband off to sweep his hair back after it’s been slightly mussed in his sleep. “And we’re still travelling?”

“I believe we will stop for a rest soon.”

“Good.” Sehun yawns behind a hand, and Kyungsoo notes that the boy, though snarky, still seems to have been taught basic manners-- which must be expected from a supposedly elegant and prim Prince of Goryeo. “You all need a rest too.”

Kyungsoo does a mental double-take, whipping his head around to stare down Sehun from where he is atop his horse, because this is unheard of, this is new--a Royal family member, showing some level of concern for the ones who serve them. But then again, Kyungsoo reminds himself, he really should have seen it coming. One way or another Sehun, though a spoiled brat in the way the Princes of the Royal family are, is still different.

“Though you must be very used to riding for a long time,” he pipes up after a few minutes to come up with something more to say, leaning his head on an arm resting on the window of his carriage, and Kyungsoo shrugs.

“I suppose so.”

“Yeah, considering you’re always going out to war, right?” Sehun adds, humming at his own train of thought before adding, “What do you do when you’re not fighting, General?”

Kyungsoo ponders the question briefly, shrugging out a simple “I like to read”, before wondering why the hell he even bothers with genuine answers.

He glances over to find a look of mild surprise on the Prince’s face.

“Why?” he snaps. “What did you think I did?”

“I don’t know, stand around looking like a grump?”

Kyungsoo turns, glaring at him, and sighing heavily through his nose when Sehun dares to giggle the slightest at him.

“What about you then?”

That effectively shuts Sehun up, to Kyungsoo’s surprise. The boy looks speechless and unsure for seemingly the very first time, stumped at what Kyungsoo thought was a simple enough question.

“I… do some things here and there…”

“Like what?”

“...Uhh…”

Kyungsoo frowns, turning to look at the Prince with an eyebrow raised. “Don’t Princes have classes with a teacher?”

“Yes?” Kyungsoo blinks at the questioning tilt of Sehun’s response. “I mean, I’m supposed to. I don’t really go. I sort of…. Just hang around and wander a lot. Like, outside the palace, to the markets, around the town of the commoners, all that?”

Kyungsoo takes it in with a neutral expression, eyes on the way Sehun avoids his gaze. “You don’t read or paint or practice calligraphy?”

“Not really.”

Kyungsoo nods, not having a snarky response for once, especially upon seeing the slight embarrassment tinting Sehun’s ears red. Which is a surprise in itself, considering Sehun’s usual rebellious and careless self.

“How are you going to protect you and your family in this political system later on in life if you don’t develop any skills in  _ any  _ areas?”

“Can’t I just keep living like this?” Sehun shrugs, and Kyungsoo’s hit by the Prince’s naivety, rendered speechless by how simple-minded and clueless the boy seems to be, and finds it difficult to grope around for words to respond with. 

But in Kyungsoo’s stumped silence, Sehun perks up again, chirping, “Oh but I’ve always kind of wanted to try horseback riding. Especially because my brothers don’t let me, they think it’ll be a useless effort for me.”

Kyungsoo glances at the young Prince again, unable to bring himself to the satisfaction of knowing that his previous guess was right, not with the pout hanging on Sehun’s lips.

He chews the inside of his mouth thoughtfully, barely noticing when a soldier rides up to him from the front of the progression and nearly running into them.

“General, the King His Majesty has suggested we take a rest right now.”

Kyungsoo nods, sending the soldier off again as he stops his horse, watching as the servants all come to a gentle stop and lower Sehun’s carriage to the ground. Further ahead he could see the other Princes step out of their respective carriages, loudly commenting on the long trip as they stretch their legs. Sehun’s similarly hopping out, but rather than stretch all his long limbs, he’s staring at Kyungsoo, swinging his legs and jumping off his horse.

Sehun looks him up and down, blinking rapidly in what seems to be confusion.

“I thought Generals and soldiers were meant to be big. And strong,” Sehun blurts out.

Kyungsoo sighs, only just realising that he had been on his horse all day, and Sehun had been in his carriage, and only now they’re standing on the same ground, so only now the Prince is realising that he could easily see the top of Kyungsoo’s helmet.

“I’m as big and strong as I need to be.”

“But you’re so  _ tiny _ .”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to try hopping up on my horse for a bit,” Kyungsoo starts, trailing off the moment he notices the spark in Sehun’s eyes.

He nods so enthusiastically, but halts in his excitement. “Do you actually mean it? Would that be alright?”

Kyungsoo shrugs slightly, gesturing vaguely towards his horse. “It’s just for a short while.”

The Prince looks up at the animal, down at the General, flittering gaze exposing his hesitation for a moment before he quickly steps up to the horse. An unsure glance at Kyungsoo, and the General moves up next to him, offering him his arm for Sehun to grip onto, instructing him to swing his leg up and over the back of the horse.

Sehun’s grip on Kyungsoo’s hand is wobbling, but Kyungsoo steadies him with a firm hand on his thigh, pushing him up and into the saddle. A gentle reminder to have both feet properly in the stirrup, and Kyungsoo’s taking the reins of the horse in his hand, giving a click of his tongue for the horse to start moving. He ignores the staring he can feel from the servants, smiling slightly upon noticing Sehun’s wide eyes and delighted exclaims.

Kyungsoo holds onto Sehun’s hand and leads the horse on the reins with his other hand so that he doesn’t grip the mane of the horse, walking the horse in a leisurely pace around the small clearing they had stopped at.

Sehun’s laughing, smile wide, and Kyungsoo lets his eyes linger on the pretty curves of Sehun’s eyes. It’s only when they’ve done a small circle and are facing the carriages again that Kyungsoo notices the fifth Prince standing near Sehun’s empty carriage.

“Your Highness,” Kyungsoo says in greeting, getting down on one knee and catching the Prince’s attention.

“Oh, you!” Kyungsoo glances up, seeing the fifth Prince completely looking over Kyungsoo’s hunched form and pointing at Sehun, still sitting atop Kyungsoo’s horse. “What are you doing?”

Sehun stammers the slightest, fingers trailing through the horse’s mane. “I’m riding the General’s horse?”

“You’re playing around on a Royal family expedition and you’re inconveniencing the General!” Wang Hyo shouts, casually motioning for Kyungsoo to stand simultaneously--but not expecting him to interject.

“Pardon me, Your Highness, I was the one who suggested it.”

The Prince immediately pauses, turning to stare at Kyungsoo, who has his head bowed slightly in a show of respect. 

“Oh?” he turns fully towards Kyungsoo, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Why is that, General?”

Kyungsoo dares to raise his head the slightest. “Well I think it’s important that young adults like Prince Sehun need to learn essential skills, involving but not limited to horseback riding, especially with his status as a Prince.”

Wang Hyo blinks in silence at Kyungsoo for a few moments before letting out a loud scoff in dismissal, walking off without another word, shaking his head as though he deemed Kyungsoo mad. Kyungsoo straightens up, sighing as he watches the Prince stride off with his chin high, before turning around, holding out a hand for Sehun to grip.

“Come on, Your Highness. Just slide off, I’ll catch you.”

Sehun takes one look down at the ground, round eyes glancing at Kyungsoo. He slightly bites on his bottom lip, and Kyungsoo’s struck by a sudden thought that Sehun seems almost… shy, and sweet, and he’s almost certain he isn’t reading Sehun’s grateful looks wrong, with the way he released a breath he must have been holding with the presence of his brother. “But,” he stutters. “But you’re so tiny?”

“Come on, Your Highness,” Kyungsoo sighs, rolling his eyes. “It’s time we get moving, get off the horse, please.”

Kyungsoo reaches for Sehun’s hand, steadily holding it in his own, and giving a slight pull, letting Sehun slide off the back of the horse. He catches him perfectly in his sturdy arms against his chest, gently lowering him to the ground, ignoring Sehun’s exclaims in surprise.

“What--you’re-- you’re so strong for such a small person?” Sehun’s gaping, and Kyungsoo’s sighing as he swings himself back up on his horse, watching as the servants begin to position themselves to lift the carriage again.

“And you’re so light for such a tall person.”

That renders Sehun mute again, climbing less than carefully into the carriage. The curtains are drawn when the carriage is being lifted, but it doesn’t take long for Sehun to pull them back again, just to look at Kyungsoo outside his window, even before they start moving.

“How are you so strong?” he asks again, big eyes shining in his curiosity, looking Kyungsoo’s figure up and down. “How built are you? Do you have to be that strong to be a soldier?”

“Why are you so fascinated?”

Sehun quickly looks away, flustered, and yes perhaps he shouldn’t be so fascinated-- but he is, and the Heavens know he wouldn’t ever admit it. So he clamps his mouth shut, turns away, and tries to hide it behind casual talk about horse riding with the serious General. He isn’t sure whether it worked or not-- he could only hope that Kyungsoo didn’t catch onto his brief moment of embarrassment.

  
  
  
  


Kyungsoo looks up from where he’s capping the water flask and hanging it around his mare again, frowning. The mare snorts, kicking a pebble with a hoof, and Kyungsoo gently pulls on the reins and allows her to come to a slow stop, leaning forward in the saddle to observe the rest of the halted army.

“What’s going on?” he barks out, one of the accompanying soldiers running up to him on foot and kneeling.

All of a sudden the soldier’s collapsing, and Kyungsoo’s pulling his sword out from it’s sheath in a single swift move, eyes catching on the long arrow sticking perfectly straight out of the man’s chest.

Immediately he’s taking up position in front of the Prince’s carriage, despite the commotion all around him, and one glance tells him many more servants and maids have been shot down-- including one of the men holding up Sehun’s carriage.

Instantly, the rest of the servants hurry to lower it before it tips over with the unbalance of weight, and Kyungsoo shields the carriage behind the body of him and his horse with his sword extended. His eyes graze the tips of the surrounding hills, and it isn’t difficult to spot the bronze armour of the Jurchen of the East, glinting under the midday sun. It’s just as hard to notice the line of shooters with poised bows before the arrows are flying.

Kyungsoo raises his sword, the short clinks of metal on metal telling him that each slash of his sword is perfectly precise. The wooden shards of the severed arrows are flying out in all directions after having met the blade of his sword, and he barely feels the tip of what must be a sharp arrow end grazing against his face with wildly waving his sword, attempting to swipe at all the arrows coming down upon them. Arrows are falling to the ground all around him and the carriage but never managing to hit their targets. The same can’t be said for the surrounding servants, their bodies littering the ground around the carriage, defenseless against the onslaught of arrows.

Kyungsoo doesn’t let his arm drop even though a fresh wave of arrows hasn’t begun to rain down on them yet. He catches sight of his men behind him, and quickly waves one of them over. “Go with the rest of the procession,” he yells, noticing the rest of the army forming a protective barrier around the other carriages. “Get the rest of the Royal family out of here.”

“But what about you, General?”

“I’m taking Prince Sehun.” he glances back, finding the rest of the soldiers still frozen in their places. “What are you waiting for? I said, get out of here! That’s a command!”

The small line of soldiers behind him immediately begin rushing forwards, pushing the procession along-- Kyungsoo’s leaping off the back of his horse in a quick move as the few straggling soldiers gather around him in a circle in an effort to protect him while he’s got his back turned as Kyungsoo quickly draws back the curtain of Sehun’s carriage.

The boy immediately looks up at him with his eyes stretched wide, and Kyungsoo doesn’t bother explaining, simply holding out an outstretched arm.

This time, the Prince asks no questions. He grabs onto Kyungsoo’s hand, stepping out of the window of his carriage. Then Kyungsoo releases his grip on his hand momentarily, only to wrap his arms sturdily around Sehun’s waist. A moment later, Sehun’s releasing a gasp, feeling Kyungsoo’s arms tighten around him, and hoisting him up into the air.

With a soft cry, he reaches forward and braces himself against the neck of the horse, gripping the horn of the saddle tight in both his shaking hands. Then Kyungsoo’s swinging himself up right behind Sehun, reaching in front of Sehun to grab onto the reins and shouting a single command, smacking the rear of his horse with the non-sharpened side of his single-edged sword. 

In the same moment that the soldier shielding them jerks as an arrow slams into their body, the mare rears up with a whinny, thundering straight past the soldier as he crumples over, dodging the arrows aimed at her thin legs.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Kyungsoo murmurs, leaning forward against Sehun’s back so he could hear him over the rushing of air as they gallop down the other fork in the road, leading to a winding passage down the middle of endless more hills, away from the rest of the Royal family. He knows it’s not the road to the Southern Capital, but Kyungsoo is only praying that it’s enough to distract the Jurchen shooters, that their brief moment of hesitation for whether to pursue a single Prince and General or whether to continue to attack the rest of the Royals would be enough time for them to lose track of them. 

Sehun manages a small affirmatory nod, both hands still holding onto the saddle for dear life. Kyungsoo’s gripping the reins with one hand that’s simultaneously braced against Sehun’s waist, in case the Prince slips and falls off the horse, while his other hand is still holding up the sword, ready to fend off any more arrows.

And his suspicions are confirmed, as they usually are regarding battles-- only a few more, badly aimed arrows fly in their direction, hitting the trees they pass and the sides of the hills. The road is sloping drastically down, the mare’s hooves sliding slightly against the dirt covering the track, but it means the mountains have risen up overhead, hiding them from view with steep rock cliffs and tall trees. 

The path is winding, the mare letting out a high pitched neigh as she rounds a sharp corner, and Kyungsoo holds Sehun closer against him with the Prince’s slight whimpering as he looks down the side of the cliff at the trees below the steep drop. At yet another fork in the path, Kyungsoo tugs on the reins, directing the horse further down, down through the mountains, because he’s sure that the closer they are to the top, the easier they must be to spot. Galloping down the side of the mountain with rock rising up on all sides, they are a moving, shielded target, and Kyungsoo is willing to risk getting lost in these mountains if it means they can escape the Jurchen tribe army for the time being.

Kyungsoo loosens his grip on the reins, and the mare slows into a light jog only when the path seemingly flattens out, and her snorts and light clicking of her hooves against the rock fill the silence around them. He glances up, finally allowing his sword-bearing arm to rest against the flank of his horse upon noticing the high cliffs all around them. Still hoping to move away from the steep drop on their other side, Kyungsoo digs his heels into the side of the horse and she quickens her pace, heading further into the mountains.

  
  


Perhaps the downside to travelling through the mountains is the inaccuracy of Kyungsoo’s time perception-- he can’t see the movement of the sun, so he has no idea how much time has actually passed or how long they’ve been moving. The horse is still trekking on down the path, and the Prince is silent in his arms.

Glancing around once more, Kyungsoo pulls the reins, guiding the mare to the space underneath a small overhanging rock jutting out from the cliff face, where she comes to a gentle stop. Kyungsoo swiftly jumps off her back, leaving Sehun on the horse as he briskly walks around the area with his sword unsheathed and swinging in one hand. He strides back, tying the reins to rocks jutting out of the side of the cliff before holding his arms up for the Prince.

And like before, Sehun glances down at him, eyes wide in his hesitation, but the corners of Kyungsoo’s lips tweak up in a small smile, and Sehun’s ungracefully sliding off and into his arms.

“Let’s rest here,” Kyungsoo murmurs, releasing his hold around Sehun. “It’s probably safer to head back to Gaegyeong rather than continue to Namgyeong. The Jurchen would have been waiting to intercept us when we headed to the South. Going back the way we came is the safest option, we'll be moving away from the East side.”

He turns, catching the Prince sitting with his back against the wall behind him, round eyes focused on him as he mumbles to himself. He raises an eyebrow, and Sehun quickly looks away, allowing Kyungsoo to return to his train of thought and mentally slapping himself after a moment. Because he should have guessed how easy it would be for the Jurchen to show their disapproval with the Royals, moving from the East to intercept them as they travel from the Capital, Gaegyeong down to the city Namgyeong in the South.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” he mutters under his breath, taking up pacing in front of the Prince. “I should’ve thought of the Jurchen launching an attack half way down to Namgyeong. I shou--”

“No one expected you to?”

Kyungsoo looks up abruptly, and watches as the Prince blinks back at him, neither cowering back into the wall or raising his chin in defiance. Just simply blinking back at him, his tone neutral when he speaks. 

“No one expected you to foresee the future like an astronomer, General. You may be a skilled fighter, but reading the fortune of the royals is not quite what you are here for.”

Kyungsoo stares the Prince down for a few moments longer, feeling an unnatural prickling of discomfort on his skin the longer he maintains eye contact, feeling the need to bow his head in a polite show of respect. And that’s what he eventually does, dipping his head in acknowledgement of what Sehun said, but choosing to not respond in words. He turns, letting his back face the Prince again so he could look out of their shelter and at the cliffs around them, one finger absentmindedly stroking the hilt of his sword as he turns Sehun’s words over in his mind.

It’s strange, the quiet way Sehun speaks as he soothes Kyungsoo’s concerns from being separated from the rest of the group. It’s unlike the smart responses he shot back at Kyungsoo when he was sitting in his carriage, and Kyungsoo assumes it’s just the shock of it all that has somehow tamed the Prince.

Eventually Kyungsoo walks back over to his mare, stroking her mane as he pours water out of his own flask and into his helmet, holding it up for her to drink from before passing the flask to Sehun.

The Prince takes it wordlessly, eyes lingering on Kyungsoo before taking a few small drinks from it.

Then he’s extending a hand, helping the Prince back onto the horse with Sehun gripping his arms tight and Kyungsoo hopping up behind him once again, hoping they’d cover some distance before the sun falls behind the cliffs and they’d be forced to rest for the night.

  
  


Sehun barely even noticed when the sun started sinking further and further down in the sky, wrapped up too well in the General’s arms, and too busy observing the man’s hands.

His fingers are short, but there are veins protruding from right beneath the tanned skin from his wrist down to the back of his hand. Sehun watches with rapt attention on the way those veins jump every time Kyungsoo slightly shifts his grip on the reins.

But then he's stopping the horse gently, and Sehun looks up to notice the shadows stretching longer and longer beneath the cliffs.

There's no particular outcrop to shelter them this time. Kyungsoo apologetically explains that as he jumps off the horse but Sehun only watches him with blinking round eyes. He seems to pace in front of an indent in the cliff face, slightly away from the cold draughts that would be moving through the mountains after sunset.

He knows Kyungsoo would be helping him off the horse, but surely by this point he could do it himself-- Kyungsoo makes it look so easy. It has already been so many times of mounting and dismounting the horse, it would be insane if Sehun still hasn’t learnt to simply hop on and jump off.

The moment Sehun lifts a foot from the stirrup, however, his entire body slips to the side in unbalance, and he lets out a panicked squeak upon feeling himself sliding off in a clumsy heap of long limbs.

There’s the feeling of familiar strong arms around his torso again, Kyungsoo just managing to run to the horse, catching the Prince securely before he falls straight off. Sehun hides his entirely flustered smile in the hard metal at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, feeling the General gently lower him to the ground, as he always does, and he refuses to meet his eyes in all his embarrassment.

To his relief, the General decides to not dwell on Sehun’s stupidity, simply stepping back with a soft sigh, and brief reminder to be careful.

“We don’t want any injuries on you,” he murmurs quietly, before his eyes scan up and down the Prince’s figure. “Are you cold?”

Sehun lets Kyungsoo lead him into the shadows at the side of the cliff that he had been examining, a small hole in the side of the rock. Then the General is untying his armour, draping it over Sehun’s shoulders once the Prince is seated on the rocky ground before he’s walking off again.

Sehun watches him, pillowing his head on his bent arms, as Kyungsoo makes trips around the side of the cliff, arms full of irregularly chopped firewood each time, only stopping once he deems the growing pile in front of Sehun satisfactory. Kyungsoo sits himself down next to Sehun with a small sigh, taking his leather belt that he wears around his waist and his helmet off, sheathing his sword once more and laying it on the ground before getting to work on the wood.

Sehun observes the bun sitting atop the man’s head for a moment, in consideration of never seeing the General without his helmet, before he lets his eyes drop down to the arrangement of weaponry at Kyungsoo’s side.

He barely notices the flames springing to life, the red glow flickering across the rock, as he inches closer to the other man. Sehun leans over, reaching out to pull various little knives out of the pouches on Kyungsoo’s belt, examining them under a curious gaze.

He glances up at Kyungsoo’s huff of amusement, noticing the man’s small smile directed towards him. Kyungsoo throws a few more smaller pieces of wood into the steadily growing tongues of fire licking up into the night air before he motions to Sehun.

“Alright, come over here.”

The Prince is eager to comply, shuffling forwards until he’s sitting with his knees a hair length away from Kyungsoo’s legs, leaning towards the General as he picks through his blades.

Eventually Kyungsoo reaches for the long, sheathed sword to his side, pulling it out of it’s intricately carved cover.

“This,” he mumbles, holding it out horizontally to Sehun, letting the Prince take it in his hands, feel it’s weight, run his fingers over it’s grip. “Is my admiral sword. It’s straight and single-edged, you can put your finger here and you wouldn’t be cut.”

He smiles at the curious noise Sehun makes when he presses his own thumb to the ‘blunt’ edge of the sword.

“You wield it with either one hand or both,” Kyungsoo continues, taking it back and placing it to the side once again, standing to retrieve a shorter sheathed weapon from the side of the horse.

Sehun’s eyes widen at the heavily decorated golden sheath, revealing a similarly beautiful grip as well as the engravings and inscriptions on its blade the moment Kyungsoo pulls it out.

“This sword is a straight-blade too, but double-edged. The tip is a little bit blunted because of that, but it’s more of a… badge of status, if you will,” Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully. “Rather than an actual weapon.”

“Does that mean no one else has one?”

“No, other Commanders have something similar, but aren’t commonly gifted to regular soldiers and guards.”

Sehun simply nods mutely, watching as Kyungsoo’s fingers run over the ring pommel at the end of a particular blade, watching him as he speaks about his military sword, pulling it out of the sword guard that hangs by a metal clip from his belt.

It’s not like he doesn’t listen to Kyungsoo’s explanations for handling the single-edged, curved blade with one hand only, but his awed expression remains trained on the General’s face.

He could think of a million ways to taunt the General, because “ _ didn’t you say you didn’t want to teach me? _ ”, but the flickers of red and orange across the man’s handsome features is enough to distract him, prompting Sehun to push all other thoughts to the back of his mind.

  
  
  
  


Kyungsoo looks behind him as he steps over a small piece of rock jutting out of the path, making sure to pull the reins enough for the horse to know to step over it. He doesn’t want any part of her legs to bruise, and certainly doesn’t want her tripping over it or stepping on it and getting the rock stuck in her hooves. She would be unable to walk for days, and that’s not a setback he’s willing to risk.

It’s considerably harder to manoeuvre around the rocky path on the side of the mountain, and Kyungsoo had chosen to get off the horse and pull her along instead. Sehun walks at his side, not a single complaint leaving his lips despite the dirtying of his pretty green robes or the dust the horse kicks up. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t turn to look at him until the prickling discomfort on his skin from the looks from Sehun’s side has become a little too much to handle.

“What is it, Your Highness?”

Sehun looks away the moment Kyungsoo turns to match his gaze. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Why you would rescue me like that?”

Kyungsoo turns to look at him properly, slowing his steps just a fraction, tilting his head to regard the Prince. “I didn’t rescue you.”

Sehun doesn’t meet his eyes, instead gazing down the path ahead and shrugging noncommittally. “You did-- if you didn’t grab me and made a run for it, I don’t think I would’ve lasted much longer, the servants were all shot down already.”

Kyungsoo stares at him for a moment later before Sehun starts up his pace, and they stride alongside each other once more.

It takes him a moment longer to speak up above the slight clanking of his metal armour against the engraved sheath of his sword.

“I didn’t rescue you-- I was simply carrying out the duty I was assigned.”

He misses the way Sehun looks down at his feet, nodding solemnly.

“I suppose that must be the reason His Majesty assigned me to you.”

Sehun looks up at that, round eyes searching Kyungsoo’s side profile in part curiosity part wonder, watching the way Kyungsoo’s lips move when he speaks.

“Which is similarly yet another thing I did not manage to predict, which the King did. He guessed the Jurchen would intercept us one way or another. And with such a large procession, there is no way they would be able to attack him, or the Crown Prince, heavily guarded and protected.”

Kyungsoo turns to glance at the Prince, and his tone softens at the boy’s furrowed eyebrows.

“He assigned me to you, because he guessed that they would target the tail of the parade. And he expected me to keep you safe. That is what I intend to do.”

Sehun turns to look at the General, who simply raises his head and continues walking forwards. His eyes remain on him, feeling a soft sort of warmth, as though covered by the General’s bright red cape that flows from the shoulders of his armour. He lets his words play over and over in his head until a slight smile graces his lips as he runs his eyes across the man’s face yet again.

“What are you staring at me for, Your Highness?”

Sehun smoothly averts his eyes to the engravings on Kyungsoo’s glinting metal headpiece and the ropes of red string that swishes from the tip of the helmet. “I’m not, I am simply admiring the… the eagle,” he huffs, running his eyes down the spread wings of the magnificent bird across the center of the headpiece, framing the General’s eyebrows. 

Noticing Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raised in barely concealed skepticism, he pouts, moreso when Kyungsoo pointedly looks at him.

“It's a heron.”

“It’s a beautifully engraved helmet, alright?”

The moment Kyungsoo turns away again, Sehun lets his eyes drop from the helmet and down to the grit on the General’s face, which do a poor job of concealing his gorgeous facial features. His gaze lingers on the man’s dark, round eyes-- eyes that turn to pin him down with a curious stare a moment later.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Your Highness?”

“I’m not, I’m admiring your armour. You have really nice armour, is it like the higher rank you are the better armour you get?”

The General sighs, turning away with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, the higher rank one is, the engravings on their armour and weaponry tend to be more delicate and more ample.”

“I see.” Sehun shoots Kyungsoo yet another glance from under his eyelashes, watching the General gently tug the mare forwards. “Does it hurt?”

The man turns back to look at him, an eyebrow raised in quiet questioning. “Sorry?”

Sehun takes his opportunity to lean forwards, eyes on the scrapes and cut on Kyungsoo’s cheek, where he’s certain bruises will be blooming by the next day. “Does that hurt? How did you get it?”

“Oh,” the General gingerly prods at his own face, shrugging. “Perhaps when the Jurchen were shooting, I must have been hit by severed arrow ends. I was deflecting them after all.” he glances up at the Prince for a brief moment, and the image of his deep brown eyes doesn’t quite leave Sehun’s conscience. “It doesn’t hurt, do not worry for me, Your Highness.”

Sehun nods, attempting to press in closer, peering at Kyungsoo’s face.

“Oh, is that a new scar near your lip?”

“No?”

Sehun frowns and tilts his head in apparent confusion, leaning in closer towards Kyungsoo’s face. “It looks like it though.”

“Is that so?” Kyungsoo takes a step away from the Prince. He gestures for Sehun to walk in front, and raises a hand to scrub at the spot near his lips Sehun had been staring oh-so-intenty at. He drops his eyes to his fingers, finding nothing but small flakes of dried blood, and blinks in his confusion.

He unsheathes his sword, holding it up to his face to observe his reflection in the glinting metal, trying to make sense of the warped image on the surface.

The Prince turns back for him, and Kyungsoo lowers his sword, walking up to him. “There’s nothing there, Your Highness.” he points at the spot below his lip, watching Sehun’s eyes drop down. “That was just some dried blood.”

To his complete surprise, the Prince turns away, ear tips a soft shade of red. “Ah I’m sorry,” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t-- I must’ve been mistaken.”

Kyungsoo frowns, opening his mouth in preparation to reassure the Prince-- of what, he isn’t sure-- but stops dead in his tracks.

He turns his head the slightest to the side, and he’s certain his ears have picked up the sounds of falling pebbles and rocks rolling down the cliff. 

Kyungsoo mentally berates himself, pulling out his long double-edged sword and pulling Sehun behind him simultaneously.

His eyes scan the cliffs around them, this time not missing the tell tale signs of a party of Jurchen they're faced with. In fact, it hasn't even occurred to him that they wouldn't have given up so easily-- that small parties would have been sent after them into the mountains, to track him down and most likely kill him, but bring the Prince back alive as a hostage. Even if it's as persuasion for the King to allow them to take more land from Goryeo, even if it's land as useless as the Hamhung plains.

Yes-- the Jurchen must have put too much effort into launching the ambush that they aren't likely to give up on their plan despite Kyungsoo's spontaneous decision to flee with the Prince.

Kyungsoo slices his way through the first wave of men, pushing Sehun away to shield him behind his horse.

It would've been the plan all along-- attack any part of the Royal family that isn't so heavily guarded in order to gain a hostage. None of them factored in their target’s escape, but knowing the Jurchen’s stubborn nature from their long years of rebelling against the monarchy, Kyungsoo really should have guessed that they would be on the pursuit, and been more cautious.

He swings, catching someone behind the head with the end of his sword grip, and swinging back around in one move to use his blade to stab at a figure he guessed would’ve attempted to strike at his back. He tries to kick the body as it falls so it’s out of his way for him to dodge the next blows, not needing to watch to know that it tumbled ungracefully right off the cliff edge.

Men who reach forward at him with their weapons have their hands and arms swiftly dismembered, and the ones who charge at him meet his sword puncturing through their torsos. Kyungsoo adds to that with the swift twists of his body as he kicks, sending attackers flying right off the narrow path they're fighting on, and hopefully falling to their deaths. 

It isn't hard for him to dodge the blows, pressing Sehun tighter against the cliff wall and away from the drop, but he watches in quiet satisfaction as the Jurchen stumble in their haste to get to him-- It makes it easier for Kyungsoo to trip them, drive them back with the movements of his sword until their feet catch on the pebbles and uneven rock underfoot and stumble backwards over the edge.

Kyungsoo’s face is dripping with the blood of others, and he could feel patches where his black robes under his armour is sticking to his skin with what must be his own blood. He misses a swing from the side, and lets out a choked sound upon feeling the explosion of pain down his nerves on his side. He didn't even notice the attacker who ran up to him while he had his back turned, knife digging deep into his waist.

Kyungsoo whips around, lips pulling up into a snarl as he rips himself away from the other man, moving his own sword at him in a backhand slash across the attacker’s chest.

He must have missed, and had originally aimed for Kyungsoo’s back or the back of his throat-- Kyungsoo moving around from being surrounded by the last few standing men would have thrown his aim off, and landed the knife in his flank instead. The offending weapon had been shaken out of his side as the attacker went down, but that doesn’t mean Kyungsoo forgets about the pain pulsing from it the same way blood drips out of it.

A large disadvantage to being so experienced on the battlefield is how insensitive he has become. The adrenaline no longer masks all his pain and aches, and though that means his thoughts are clearer and more logical rather than slashing and turning on impulse, it also means he’s very much aware of all the cuts that the Jurchen have managed to land on him.

Of the large number in the invading party, the majority are corpses, not a single one getting past Kyungsoo's guard, not with the wild gleam in his eyes and the deadly precision of every strike he lands on his attackers. 

Kyungsoo starts towards the few remainders who are dashing off back the way they came, to Kyungsoo’s dismay. Though he’s not quite in a perfectly fit state to fight any more, it does mean that they would be reporting to the higher ups of the Prince and General’s whereabouts--which means an even better fighting force would be back for them, sooner or later.

Kyungsoo staggers the slightest, and immediately hands are coming up to hold at his shoulders.

“General!” Sehun’s gasping, and Kyungsoo quickly shakes his hand off his arm.

“I’m alright, Your Highness.”

“Stop it,” Sehun snaps, and in Kyungsoo’s moment of surprise, he’s ushered by the Prince toward the small shelter under an outcrop just further down the side of the cliff. Kyungsoo turns back for the horse and before Sehun could run back to fetch her the General clicks his tongue and she canters up to them, allowing the Prince to grab her reins and lean the General on her flank.

It’s a few meters too far, and Sehun’s eyes don’t leave Kyungsoo’s limping figure, immediately wrapping his arms under him to lower him gently to the ground once reaching the shade provided by the rock overhead. He leaves Kyungsoo lying on the ground for a moment, ensuring the mare’s reins are securely tied to some part of the surrounding rocks before quickly kneeling by Kyungsoo’s side.

His fingers are already skimming across the front of Kyungsoo’s bloodied armour when one of the General’s hands catch his own, rough palm and scrapes and cuts across the back of his hand a stark contrast to the soft, pale skin of Sehun’s long fingers.

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” Kyungsoo’s cut lips murmur, and Sehun frowns.

His fingers begin working at the strings that tie the armour together at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and with a quiet sigh, the General sits up to slide the armour off, the inner fabric sticking to his skin with blood.

Sehun draws in a quick breath-- mostly because of the gash in the man’s side, but the way his eyes wander around Kyungsoo’s sturdy build and muscles that cover his otherwise small frame exposes him, the thin black robes poorly concealing the hard lines of the General’s body.

He quickly leans over to look at the General’s waist, worrying a lip between his teeth at the blood that still flowed from the gaping wound that the dagger had been thrust in.

“Your Highness,” Kyungsoo starts, but Sehun’s already moving to rip off a piece of white fabric from one of the layers of his own gown, moving to Kyungsoo’s side, where the General’s holding a loose hand against the gash in a poor attempt to staunch the blood flow.

“You’re going to have to walk me through this, General,” Sehun mumbles, tearing another strip of cloth from the inside of his robes.

“You don’t have to do that, Your Highness,” the General begins but one look at Sehun already attempting to wipe off the excess blood with the fabric and Kyungsoo sighs resignedly. “Water would help to clean the wound.”

The Prince returns a moment later with the flask that Kyungsoo hangs around the saddle of the horse, carefully wetting the fabric with water. He’s cringing as he gingerly wipes down the wound, and Kyungsoo can’t help the soft smile that tugs at his lips despite the raw pain radiating from his side.

“Run the water over it,” Kyungsoo murmurs before breaking off in a short hiss, the coolness of the water seeping straight into the gash and setting off all his nerves.

“Sorry,” Sehun whispers after a moment.

“Pat the surrounding skin dry-- don’t use all the water, that’s for drinking.”

Kyungsoo watches as Sehun folds up a strip of cloth, lying it over the wound, before tearing a long edge from the bottom of his robes off. He’s all gentle touches and careful movements, pinching the sides of the gaping wound together carefully and letting the General help him wrap the long fabric all around his waist whilst holding up his robes, tying it securely so that it holds the wad of cloth tight to the wound.

His nimble fingers are working just in front of Kyungsoo’s abdomen with the knot to keep the gash covered, and Sehun forces himself to speak in an effort to avoid paying too much attention to the constant movement of the muscles just underneath Kyungsoo’s skin as he shifts slightly. He drags his eyes away from the sliver of skin exposed with Kyungsoo hitching up his clothes for Sehun to reach in and bandage.

“This is actually better than the palace you know?” when he feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, he lets a smile curve his eyes as he glances back up at the General. “Because at least I have you here,” he chirps, tone light as he stands, admiring his own handiwork. “You’re lucky, you get to at least go elsewhere when you go to wars.”

He ignores Kyungsoo’s puzzled gaze fixated on him, watching him pull his robes over himself again. He stands to return the water flask back to the flank of the horse, but stops in his tracks at Kyungsoo’s voice.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Sehun turns, throwing a wide grin over his shoulder, even more pleased the General hasn’t gotten on his knees in his expression of gratitude.

“It’s what I wanted to do, General.”

  
  
  


They stop at another small overhang, giving enough shelter that Kyungsoo deems it satisfactory for a night’s rest. Sehun chooses a spot on the ground away from the edge of the rock incase it rains at night while Kyungsoo takes up his usual position guarding the entrance of their shelter.

Sehun expected him to take off his armour and lay it over himself as makeshift covers as he did the night before. Sehun did not expect Kyungsoo to start peeling off his black inner robes.

It hits Sehun a few moments later, when Kyungsoo removes the red stained cloth around his wound, that he's simply checking his injuries and hoping against infection-- but that doesn't stop him from letting his eyes wander all over Kyungsoo's exposed back, and itching for a look at his front too.

“Woah,” he breathes. Kyungsoo doesn't even look at him until he's standing right in front of him, openly gawking at his body. Without asking, Sehun's long, pale fingers are suddenly on his skin, dancing over his sculpted chest and torso, and Kyungsoo startles at the contact.

He stops whatever he was doing and watches with tense muscles and round, confused eyes as Sehun thumbs over all his scars that stretch over his shoulders, chest, abdomen, whether it be round arrow scars or long scars from sword slashes.

Sehun's unconsciously pulled himself close, eyes on the way Kyungsoo's muscles shift under his skin and how that makes his myriad of scars jump and wriggle. Neither of them recollect when Sehun mouth hung open but he hasn't closed it since, far too fascinated by the General’s body.

“What's this?” he asks quietly, stroking along a long thin scar that stretches from near a collarbone all the way up to his shoulder, and Sehun's finger doesn't leave it. 

“A sword scar. From a few years back, when we weren't on such peaceful terms with the Liao yet.” Sehun moves his finger to the base of the scar, at Kyungsoo's chest. “That’s where they had their sword sticking in,” Kyungsoo says. I had to twist around to get it out of me, so it ended up going up to my shoulder.”

“What about this one then?” Sehun’s finger jumps onto an irregularly round patch of skin on Kyungsoo's shoulder blade, gently stroking the rough area with the pad of his finger. 

“Burning arrow.” Kyungsoo grimaces as though the smell of burning flesh still isn't wiped from his memory.

“Burning arrow??” Sehun gasps, horrified, retracting his hand from the area in his concern as though it still hurts.

“It's from like four years ago. Took awhile to heal, but it's fine now.”

“How did you survive that??” Sehun exclaims in disbelief at Kyungsoo's casual tones.

“Had to yank it out as quickly as I could.” Kyungsoo stops when he feels Sehun run his hands over his back, where he knows he has some strange patterning of scars, before he's moved back around to stand in front of him again, silently marvelling at Kyungsoo's figure, both slightly tanned and toned, even though he may not be considerably bulky. 

Kyungsoo tells him about nearly every one, whether they were heroically won in battles or whether they were from accidentally slicing himself during practice and training.

“Like this one. I was given a ring pommel sword to use in sparring for the first time, and I tried swinging it over my shoulder as I always do, but estimated its weight and length wrong,” Kyungsoo snorts, turning his head to gaze at the jagged line over the top of his shoulder.

He stops in his tracks when Sehun looks up at him from under his eyelashes and catches his gaze, his hand still touching Kyungsoo. Sehun freezes upon eye contact before quickly pulling away from where he was gaping at Kyungsoo's torso, a flush high on his cheekbones that stretches all the way to his neck and ears.

Sehun regrets spending so long staring, he must have committed the muscles on Kyungsoo's abdomen to memory. All he thinks of all night become expanses of the General’s skin, dotted here and there with his unique marks of courage. All he dreams of all night become Kyungsoo's torso, Kyungsoo's scars, which haunt him even when he does finally fall asleep after his endless tossing and turning, trying to not look at the back of Kyungsoo’s sleeping form.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Kyungsoo, when Sehun barely looks at him the next day, not even taking the opportunity to stare when Kyungsoo isn’t looking out of his embarrassment and confusion, still trying to work out why he had his dream about the General.

Sehun barely breathes when Kyungsoo presses up against the Prince before lifting him up onto horseback, all too hyper aware of the General’s hands on his waist, on his hip, on his arm, because that’s certainly not where his hands were in Sehun’s dream that he’s still wound up in.

He’d dragged his hand down his very flushed face when he woke up, bewildered out of his mind-- but it’s such a noticeable contrast to how Sehun could barely take his eyes off Kyungsoo the day before that the General most certainly notices.

What Kyungsoo doesn’t notice, however, is that the party that has been in pursuit of the Prince guarded by a lone soldier is back-- and it has taken far too long for Kyungsoo to realise that the Jurchen have managed to cut in front of them-- clearly much more familiar in this rocky terrain than they are.

In fact, it hadn't occurred to him that they were being followed until a well-aimed arrow zipped through the air, landing solidly in his bicep.

“Kyungsoo!!” Sehun cries, but Kyungsoo only switches his sword to his left hand, despite the protests of his nerves when he moves them, blood still steadily pumping from the arrow lodged in his left arm. With now his right hand free, he grasps the arrow tight and yanks, gritting his teeth and continuing to clank his sword against the metal of other weapons with attackers streaming down the sides of the mountain at them.

Kyungsoo’s swinging his long double-edged sword down upon the soldiers that begin to block their way and run up to them on the horse, splattering the rock underfoot with a brilliant shade of crimson. He grabs onto Sehun tight before flicking the reins and letting the mare buck, hearing the thud of her hooves against a figure from behind.

Though being on top of his horse is a vantage point, Kyungsoo’s paranoia that the attackers would attempt to take down his horse’s legs is a nagging alarm at the back of his head. He’s not willing to risk it, not with the enemy crowding around the horse, confusing her and making her movements even clumsier than before-- he has no confidence protecting both himself and the Prince against multiple shooters, and potentially more foot soldiers.

The bronze armour of the Jurchen blend in shockingly well with the cliffs that speed past them as the mare jumps clear over the men and races off, and Kyungsoo holds his arm out over Sehun, terrified any stray arrows that don't hit the rock behind them would hurt him in any way, his own wound entirely forgotten. 

The success of their previous escape gives him confidence for him to egg his mare along, telling her to thunder right past the attackers, and this time he feels a quiet satisfaction settle in his stomach when he looks back to notice the arrows flying after them miss them by several knife-lengths.

The mare slows, uncertain at the narrow winding path, and Kyungsoo lets her lightly jog down the road, constantly turning around in the saddle to watch around them for attacks from behind, or even above. He does know for certain that the invading party has no horses, and it's unlikely they would be able to make such fast pursuit, not in these hostile mountains.

The knowledge that the Jurchen are more well-versed in this area than they are, however, is what spurs Kyungsoo to continuously urge the horse on, until they've run for what seems like hours.

The precarious, winding passages give no clue which direction they're facing, and hearing only the hard breathing of the mare echoing around the rock faces around them, Kyungsoo gently stops her, knowing that perhaps they all need rest before continuing tomorrow, and riding her here would be far too dangerous-- the impact of his feet hitting the ground when he jumps off sends jolts through his body and reminds him of all his aches.

Even as Kyungsoo’s tying up the horse when they finally stop to spend the night, Sehun only stares at Kyungsoo with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, and the slight simmering of satisfaction is back in Kyungsoo's chest for some unfathomable reason, despite the lives he had taken. Or maybe that's the reason why Sehun looks so shocked.

“Did that frighten you?” Kyungsoo moves closer, moving Sehun’s head to rest on his shoulder with one hand on Sehun’s nape, the other gently wrapped around Sehun’s waist, ignoring the throbbing of his arm where the arrow at been. 

Sehun hates it-- hates how bruises are already beginning to bloom all over Kyungsoo’s thick arms, and there’s blood dripping slowly down the curve of his cheek from a long horizontal cut.

And yet here he is, Kyungsoo taking Sehun in his bruised arms, holding up Sehun’s weight against his own body on legs that must be exhausted. Always murmuring comforts into his ear, when he’s the one with aching muscles and stinging wounds and a gaping hole in his arm from where he had yanked the arrow from.

He holds onto Kyungsoo’s hand, easing him into a sitting position, helping him peel back the sleeves of his black robes to expose the slashes across his arms and shoulders.

With a sigh, Sehun rises to retrieve the water flask, however no matter how he keeps his hands busy, his mind continuously wanders to the man sitting so close and yet so far from him.

Quickly, his long fingers reach up into his own hair to pull at the fabric of his headband, letting strands of his long black hair fall in front of his forehead. With his headband looped around one wrist, Sehun pulls up Kyungsoo’s black robes before wrapping his headband around his bicep, once, twice, to cover the wound.

The delicate white embroidery of the flowers and the pretty pale blue of the satin looks horribly out of place amongst Kyungsoo’s dirtied, bloodied robes, standing out starkly against the dark fabric.

All of a sudden, Sehun's crying, the quiet splatters of his tears landing on the cave floor breaking the silence between them. He turns away, unable to look at Kyungsoo's body next to him-- It's technically his fault that Kyungsoo's injured, and now stands such little chance against any further attacks down the road. And considering the length of the journey, and the speed of their pursuers on their trail, it's bound to happen sooner or later.

But Kyungsoo needs rest, Kyungsoo's wounds need to heal, and Sehun’s upset at himself for being so  _ useless.  _ Kyungsoo's keeping them both alive, but here he is, exhausted and injured from the amount of trouble they've run into, and wondering how much longer Kyungsoo could last scares the living daylights out of Sehun.

They decided to keep Kyungsoo’s arrow wound as open as possible, even though Sehun was ready to cut the edges of his pants to use as bandages. The hole from the arrowhead is deep, and if Kyungsoo wants to air it out then that might just be the better option at the time being.

He doesn't realise when his silent tears became loud sobs at the thought of Kyungsoo enduring all this pain, but the guard had sat up, and then strong arms are winding around Sehun's shoulders, pulling him into the chest wrapped in bandages. Sehun buries his face in the crook of Kyungsoo's neck, muffling his sniffles, feeling Kyungsoo smooth his hands down his back in soothing circles.

“It's going to be alright, Sehun,” comes his low voice, echoing and amplified in the silence. “You'll see your brothers soon enough. I'll get you home, no matter what.”

Sehun just sobs harder, because no that's exactly what he doesn't want. He doesn't want Kyungsoo to keep putting himself in danger, keep injuring himself, keep putting everything on the line for him.

He holds Kyungsoo a little bit closer to himself again, shaking his head slightly against Kyungsoo's shoulder because of course he doesn't understand-- he doesn't understand that Sehun’s tears aren't for his strict father or his mean brothers.

  
  
  


It doesn’t take long for them to break out of the shadows of the cliffs and into the sunlight, spilling over their faces and basking both in a golden glow. Although not quite at the top of the mountain, Kyungsoo fearing it would expose them too much, the breeze carries through their hair, and he stops to watch the Prince let the wind brush his black hair back from his forehead. It had continued to fall into his face and block his eyes ever since he had pulled his headband off to wrap the arrow wound on Kyungsoo’s arm, and he’d catch the Prince stopping to tie his ponytail tighter more often than not.

Kyungsoo glances down at his bicep, swallowing past the guilt of letting his blood stain the prettily decorated fabric that Sehun liked to wear around his forehead, smiling instead at the strange, endearing way the delicate flowers don’t quite seem to match the dark clothes and rough appearance he wears as a soldier.

He peers down the road and notices how it widens further down so he suddenly stops, reaching a hand out to grip the Prince’s wrist.

He pulls on the reins, letting the mare trot up to him from where she was following just behind them, and motions for Sehun to hop on.

Sehun’s staring at him with wide eyes, but Kyungsoo’s smile is gentle and reassuring, and he’s holding the saddle steady when Sehun climbs on in the awkward, clumsy way he does.

Sehun smoothes a hand down the adorned patterns in the leather of the seat, and when he looks at Kyungsoo, his eyes are shining.

Wordlessly, Kyungsoo hands him the reins, and simply pats Sehun’s pale hands when he sees him hesitate.

“It’s alright. I’ll be here.”

Kyungsoo pats the neck of the beautiful chestnut mare, and with a soft click of his tongue, she beings to walk, and Sehun yelps the slightest at being rocked forward in the seat. 

“Sit straight up, back straight,” Kyungsoo calls out to him, gently guiding the horse forwards with his hand gripping the horn of the saddle. “Hold tight onto the reins. That’s how she knows what you want from her.”

Kyungsoo feels his heart come alive at the bright smile that blossoms on Sehun’s face, a smile that reaches his ears and lights up his eyes.

With the wide expanse of the rocky road stretching ahead and no fear of falling off the steep edges of the cliff, eventually Kyungsoo stops the horse after he’s talked Sehun through the way to dig his heels to spur her on. Sehun slips his feet out of the stirrup, replaced by Kyungsoo’s own, and in one swift movement he’s swinging himself onto the horse’s back right behind Sehun.

“Like so,” he murmurs into Sehun’s hair, before barking out a command, the horse rearing and breaking out into a gallop down the track the moment he firmly presses his heels into her sides. 

Sehun yelps, and Kyungsoo releases one hand from the reins to wrap around Sehun’s waist, holding him flush against himself. Sehun laughs loud and free, with the sun warming their backs and the rushing air in their hair, bodies against each other.

Kyungsoo’s smiling, resting his head on Sehun’s shoulder from behind so that he isn’t slapped with a fistful of Sehun’s long ponytail streaming behind him in the wind, expertly steering the horse down the winding passages of the pathway with one firm hand on the reins.

He thinks about how their situation is considerably not one associated with pleasure and joy, and yet the Prince, spoiled and pampered by maids and dressed in pretty green silks, still laughs in ways Kyungsoo has never seen him laugh before. They’re lost, dirty, without a single soul in sight aside from each other-- and Kyungsoo finds his veins thrumming in warmth at how despite all this, Sehun has never looked happier.

Sehun cranes his neck back to look behind him, resting against Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and Kyungsoo pointedly doesn’t look up at him, fearful of falling into the beautiful crescents of his smiling eyes.

He secretly wonders to himself whether it’s a little too late for that, when he catches Sehun in his arms after they slow to a stop once spotting a decently sized cave to rest in for the night. Sehun’s legs have turned into liquid from the ride, and his soft breathy laughter in Kyungsoo’s ear as he holds himself up against the General turns Kyungsoo’s kneecaps weak too. 

Even when they let silence settle in the air between them, Sehun’s senses are still trained to focus on Kyungsoo, especially with the slight echoing of everything Kyungsoo does, sounds bouncing off their little rocky shelter. Sehun glances up, eyeing the General from under his eyelashes, a small smile on his lips as he watches the man even in the dim, near non-existent light from across the cave.

Sehun can feel the slight thumping of his heart at the base of his neck when he bends down to find his own spot on the cold rock underfoot. He can feel all it’s erratic beats, feeling like little fingers drumming on him with no rhythm. Perhaps it’s this thought that should have scared him a little-- that such an important organ in his body reacts so strangely to the man sitting so close to him.

But Sehun can similarly feel the little thuds of his heartbeat in the back of his skull, poking into his brain, just like how Kyungsoo pokes his way into all his thoughts. It serves to remind him that the General has been lurking there, at the back of his consciousness, for long enough already.

  
  
  


“Good morning, hyung-nim.”

Kyungsoo perks up, spinning around from where he’s stretching just outside the cave, letting the early morning sun warm his back as he inhales lungfuls of the fresh mountain air.

Ever since Sehun jokingly mentioned how this spontaneous two-person trip is better than Palace life Kyungsoo hasn’t been able to get the thought out of his head. He thinks of waking up to Sehun’s smile in the mornings, thinks of Sehun’s eyebrows furrowed in utmost concentration as he washes Kyungsoo’s cuts, thinks of Sehun’s ‘good night’ whispers into the darkness the moment before they both fall asleep.

He thinks of Sehun’s laughter and Kyungsoo’s arms holding him on the horse, and he thinks of Sehun now, sitting up from his spot on the cold, hard rock floor, with his long black hair an absolute mess atop his head without his headband to keep it in place, and yet still smiling so brightly first thing in the morning. Because he’s smiling at Kyungsoo, who returns it.

He thinks of Sehun calling him ‘ _ hyung-nim _ ’, and he thinks of himself calling the Prince by his birthname, and how they’ve both unknowingly dropped all the honorifics the longer they’ve stayed by each other’s side.

He’s lost track of how many days it’s been, but perhaps that’s because he hasn’t found a need to keep count, not with Sehun chattering cheerfully by his side day after day.

He turns to fully face the Prince, taking a slight step towards him.

“Good morning, Sehun,” he smiles, watching the boy comb fingers through his hair. “Did you sl--”

Instantly Kyungsoo leaps back, neatly dodging a blade that’s swung out towards him as a figure jumps out from the top of the rocky outcrop that forms the ceiling of the cave they had rested in.

He takes a step back, glancing around and feeling his heart sink at noticing the men dressed in bronze plates of armour, surrounding him. Not because he can’t win this fight, since it looks like the Jurchen warriors have somehow managed to track their path through the mountains and have continued to follow them. No, but because he could see his sword lying on the ground of the cave, just behind one of the men directly blocking his path to it. And also because they’ve formed a barrier that separates him from the Prince.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer, swiftly ducking a blow aimed at him from one side, leading to Kyungsoo kicking out the legs of the Jurchen warrior from under him to tip him over. He raises an arm as a block, barely even feeling the cut on his shoulder as the knife of the man meets his unprotected arm-- afterall, he is attempting to fend off armed attackers with no armour on and no weapon.

Kyungsoo manages to swing his right leg out in a well-timed kick, narrowly missing being cut by a blade swinging in that direction but managing to strike squarely against the lower abdomen of one of the attackers, sending him toppling into the rocks off to the side. Kyungsoo barely manages to block yet another blow, grabbing hold of the attacker’s wrist and twisting--so much so that they drop their weapon and Kyungsoo puts his weight forward on the fragile bone of the wrist and hearing a clean snap a moment later. He drops the arm and grabs the weapon they dropped and strikes out with it, simultaneously using a leg to fling the man away before Kyungsoo attempts to manoeuvre around additional swords and knives swung in his direction. He knocks one off a hand, manages to land a bruising strike to the face to one man-- he dives past one of them, turning to the side and letting his elbow meet the back of their unprotected head, hoping the solid blow is enough to knock yet another out.

Then he’s rolling down on the floor, kicking out at the same time and managing to catch the leg of an attacker and trip them, reaching blindly for his sword and feeling a surge of pure relief in his chest the moment he feels the worn handle against his fingers, feels the comforting weight in his palm.

He scrambles to stand and raises his sword, pulling it out of the sheath in a rapid move, before lunging forward in his sudden confidence.

The one attacker in front of him falters for a moment, and Kyungsoo uses that heart beat’s hesitation to swing his sword, being able to tell by feeling that it’s perfectly, precisely, cut through all the skin and ligaments it’s supposed to, severed all the arteries it’s intended to.

He doesn’t linger-- as he spins to face the rest of the attackers, he allows his sword to swing around, knowing that it caught the one man who attempted to sneak up from behind him. Blood splatters the rock underfoot, the tip of his sword digging into and ripping out of multiple chests, many throats, countless stomachs.

The red runs down Kyungsoo’s face, like how the seemingly endless stream of men continue to bear down on him, and he only grips his sword tight in one hand to slice through the incoming figures. He takes a millisecond to bend down, retrieving the discarded sword from a dead man’s hand, wielding it in his other hand to move both at the same time and strike down any further attacks on his sides.

With one hand blocking the blow of the attacker’s weapon with his own, and the other hand digging his spare sword into their chest, Kyungsoo barely blinks when he pulls out the blade from where it was embedded in flesh to turn around and block yet again-- perhaps his grip was loose after just pulling it out, but when an attacker knocks Kyungsoo’s second sword from his hand with his blow, he doesn’t watch it clang to the ground-- he moves to wield his own sword with both hands, swinging it down upon what must be one of the last remaining opponents.

Kyungsoo manages to block a blow just in time with his sword held in front of him, the clang of metal on metal resonating in his ears, and feet firmly planted in the ground to push back against the force of the attacker, who’s hoping Kyungsoo’s block would give out and break the stalemate. 

Kyungsoo’s baring his teeth, feeling the muscles in his biceps strain with the force of holding himself up against the push of the other man’s sword against his own.

“Put your sword down or I’ll kill him!”

Kyungsoo freezes immediately, whipping his head around and feeling his blood in all his arteries run cold the moment he sees the arm of an attacker looped around Sehun’s shoulder, the tip of the knife he’s holding against the Prince’s pale neck a hair-length away from grazing the skin.

Kyungsoo glances back at the attacker still pushing down against his own sword, then at the man holding Sehun-- back at the threat infront of him, then again at the risk of losing Sehun--

He has no idea what he’s doing, his brain is running in panicked overdrive to the point where no coherent, logical thought is forming. He barely registers himself slowly, slightly lowering his weapon, until he hears Sehun’s voice.

“No don’t.”

His two simple words steal Kyungsoo’s attention again, looking back at him to find the Prince’s eyes locked on him. He’s not panicking, seemingly not afraid at all-- just staring at Kyungsoo, eyes soft and calm, lips barely moving when he speaks.

“You need to stay alive, hyung-nim,” he murmurs, and yet Kyungsoo could hear him as clear as the sun shines overhead. 

Kyungsoo feels his mouth run dry, feels his heart beating in the tips of his fingers, still tightly wrapped around the sword he’s still holding overhead in front of himself. His arms are aching, legs straining from the effort of bracing himself against the push of the other man, but he’s hesitating-- even more so, with Sehun’s serene gaze on him. He’s hesitating, in a stalemate with himself within his own mind, between his natural instinct to survive and his desperate desire to keep Sehun alive.

Kyungsoo forces himself to breathe through his nose, forces the gears in his brain to turn, to think of something,  _ anything _ , to save Sehun.

“You will do no such thing.” The General’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and authoritative, quiet in an attempt to hide the tremors in it.“You will not hurt the Prince-- he’s much too valuable to you alive.” His eyes zero in on the threat holding Sehun. “Jurchen rebels simply want to revolt against King Sukjong, and the Prince is how you plan on doing so. Your plan would not work so nicely if he’s dead.”

The man holding Sehun against the knife serves to remind Kyungsoo, his voice harsh when he cuts in, as though he has no time for Kyungsoo’s logical deductions.

“Move, and he’ll be dead!”

Kyungsoo looks over at them once more, and feels all his internal organs drop into the ground when he notices the glinting edge of the knife already cutting into Sehun’s neck.

No, the only thing running through Kyungsoo’s brain is ‘no’, commanding movement in all his limbs at once in his immediate, desperate panic. He’s scared-- as the General who shouts commands to the masses of men waiting on his every word, as the fearless General who bravely leads all those lives into bloodbaths, Kyungsoo is terrified. Kyungsoo’s genuinely terrified that he’ll actually lose this battle, the one battle that counts, for once in his life.

He pulls his sword back from the stalemate suddenly, the other man toppling slightly at the sudden loss of support. The adrenaline kicks in tenfold and he’s fighting harder than he’s ever fought before in his life, because all of a sudden everything is on the line and he’s far too close to losing Sehun than he deems acceptable.

In one swift move, he swings right his arm wielding his sword to slash the front of his attacker, but simultaneously placing all his trust in himself and his non-dominant arm. In less than a heart-beat, his left hand has fished out the small military single-edged sword out from the leather belt around his waist, and in another heart-beat, it’s flown out of his hand.

It doesn’t take the dagger too long to meet it’s mark. Kyungsoo’s left hand is still extended, breath coming fast in the silence, watching as Sehun’s attacker stumbles, the wooden grip of Kyungsoo’s curved blade protruding straight out of his forehead. Kyungsoo lunges in his direction, swinging his sword one last time to get the knife as far away from Sehun’s neck as he could, landing a blow to the man’s lower stomach at the same time for good measure.

There’s barely more than that single cut on Sehun’s neck but Kyungsoo drops his bloodied sword immediately anyway. He’s at Sehun’s side in the blink of an eye, eyes raking him up and down in a frenzied hurry with the sight of blood on Sehun’s neck from the cut, desperate to know he hasn’t been injured anywhere else--he only stops when a hand comes up to hold onto his sleeve, and he looks up to find Sehun’s widened eyes staring right back at him.

“I’m fine, hyung-nim,” he whispers, and for a moment, Kyungsoo’s dark unblinking eyes meet Sehun’s gorgeous pair, and the resulting jolt somewhere in Kyungsoo’s chest is what powers him to dive forward, urgently pressing his lips against Sehun’s. 

He’s not thinking, he doesn’t know what to say, he’s not sure of anything except the fact that he needs Sehun to be alright-- he needs it more than he needs air to breathe, if the desperate ways he glides his lips over Sehun’s is any indication.

Sehun parts his lips in a silent  _ ‘oh’ _ , only just realising that this is precisely what he’s been longing for, what’s been plaguing all his dreams and hopes and fantasies-- but then Kyungsoo’s eyes are snapping open and hurriedly pulling away.

Sehun’s eyebrows furrow immediately, gaze catching on how Kyungsoo’s thick lips are glistening under the sun, and Kyungsoo's eyes flickering in all directions, landing on everything but Sehun.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he chokes out eventually, taking a small step away from Sehun, whose heart drops down to the soles of his feet at this. “I-- probably shouldn’t have done that…”

Sehun shakes his head and whispers a quiet “don’t go” with a quivering voice, grabbing a fistful of Kyungsoo’s black undershirt and tugging him forwards so that he could taste him again. He’s finally getting what he’s been wanting and he is not about to let it go anytime soon if he can help it.

He parts his lips before sliding them over Kyungsoo’s once more, again and again, face tilted and eyes scrunched shut. His nose is assaulted by the stench of blood all over Kyungsoo, but his taste is so much more heavenly it drowns out all Sehun’s other senses until his entire body is burning from the heat of his mouth. Kyungsoo’s lips are chapped and rough, but his tongue feels like velvet against Sehun’s own, and his breath comes in shuddering gasps when Kyungsoo starts pulling away the slightest once again.

If his ears aren’t full of the sounds of the rushing of his blood like waves crashing onto rocky cliffs, he would delight in the ragged sounds of Kyungsoo’s breathing.

“I…” Sehun isn’t so sure where in the world he gets his sudden moment of bravery and daring from, but words are whispered out against Kyungsoo’s wet lips. “Think I’m in love with you.”

It takes him a few additional moments to register that he said something at all, still standing oh-so-close to the General with his eyes closed, silently breathing in his scent. But when Sehun does realise, he simply blinks his eyes open, letting his eyelashes flutter against Kyungsoo’s cheek and steps back, taking in the wide-eyed shock written all over Kyungsoo’s face.

The man stares at Sehun in complete disbelief, unsettling silence stretching in the air between them until Sehun begins to cower into himself, his strong unwavering gaze giving way. He ducks his head, glancing to the side.

“Sehun, I literally just said I shouldn’t have done that.”

“So?” Sehun snaps. His eyebrows are knitted together in his frustration at how little Kyungsoo seems to understand-- and why Kyungsoo himself is so difficult to understand. “It doesn’t change that fact at all. It doesn’t matter what you feel, because it doesn’t change what I feel for you.”

It’s a few moments more of Kyungsoo staring in speechless silence, round eyes fixated on Sehun’s face, running across his features. Then he’s seemingly shaking himself, forcefully dragging his eyes away from him.

“Let’s… let’s get some rest.”

Sehun watches him stagger back into the cover of the cave, leaving behind a mess of bodies on the ground stained with red. He lifts a finger to gently stroke his own bottom lip, attempting to commit the way Kyungsoo felt, the way Kyungsoo tasted to memory, before following him with a soft sigh.


	2. i'm not alive without you

Sehun steps forward until his shoes are nearly reaching the water’s edge where it laps against the pebbles underfoot.

A whole day and subsequent night’s rest later finds Kyungsoo already up and rinsing his weapons down in the small trickling stream a few metres away from their shelter. Sehun had woken with fear pumping in his blood after glancing around and not seeing the General, but released a sigh of relief once he stepped out of their cave and peered down the small drop and spied him squatting by the stream, already fully dressed in his armour-- perhaps paranoid from the sudden ambush that caught both of them off guard the day before.

He had made his way down to join Kyungsoo in the sun, shielding his eyes against how the sun’s rays reflect right off the glistening metal.

Kyungsoo doesn’t even look up despite Sehun’s shadow falling directly over the blades Kyungsoo’s waving around in the slow-running water of the stream. He brushes his thumb against his sword, and Sehun stretches his arms over head with a soft hum as the water slowly turns red from the blood shed the day before. 

Sehun drops his arms back down to his side, letting out a long sigh before squinting down at the soldier.

“Hyung-nim,” he murmurs, barely louder than the steady rippling of the water as it flows downstream. “What…” he trails off, drawing in a deep breath. “What are we? To each other?”

Kyungsoo places his sword down on the pebbles, reaching for his single-edged sword and grabbing it by the ring pommel and letting the river water wash over it.

“You’re a Prince of Goryeo, the twelfth son of King Sukjong, and I am the General of the Byeolmuban army. I am your…” Kyungsoo stops short, and Sehun admittedly sucks in a breath, his eyes catching on the way Kyungsoo’s hands pause in their scrubbing of the dried blood on his blade. “Guard.”

Sehun lets out a loud huff.

“We--”

“Did nothing. We did nothing.”

Sehun rounds on the man, protests falling like rain from his lips. “Yes, yes we did. We both wanted it,  _ you  _ kissed me, we kissed each other--” he pauses, sucking in a deep breath and not being able to do much more than simply clench his jaw at how Kyungsoo continues to scrub at his blades. “Hyung-nim please, you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. Because I haven’t stopped feeling this way for you after that one night of sleep, you can’t simply pretend what I feel for you doesn’t exist because it does, and it’s very much real.”

Sehun stops, eyes darting across Kyungsoo’s side profile, Kyungsoo’s seemingly very neutral side profile. He wants to snatch the weapons out of his hands, just so that he’s sure Kyungsoo’s listening as he exposes his heart to him. 

“I don’t want to be here,” he whispers. “I just want you to take me somewhere else.”

The soldier stops the movements of his hands, and after a soft sigh, he stands, bringing his blades out from the water with him as he does so. “I want us to be clear on this,” he eventually says, his thick, smooth voice still leaving jolts down Sehun’s limbs as they do every time Kyungsoo opens his mouth to speak. “I did nothing last night. I heard nothing from you last night either.” Sehun immediately opens his mouth, but if Kyungsoo noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “And I hope you know that I’ve been far too lenient with you for far too long. My title is General Do, and that is the title I am referred to by. That is my name.”

For the first time today, Kyungsoo turns to face him, and Sehun nearly takes a physical step back at his dark irises and eyebrow raised in a silent challenge of his authority.

“I will not respond to any other names, and I ask for your cooperation, Your Highness.”

Sehun’s opening and closing his mouth like a suffocating fish, and could do not much more than simply watch with a weighed down heart as Kyungsoo strides past him, tucking his blades into their sheaths and his belt. 

  
  
  
  


Though he tries his hardest to keep himself in check, Kyungsoo had made that very clear, Sehun does also believe that you can't entirely blame him-- not when he's assaulted with all of Kyungsoo's hard muscles every time he strips to change the bandages on his wounds.

Sehun catches himself from drooling just in time, and quickly turns away so Kyungsoo doesn’t notice it, feeling around his face for the hot blush he's far too familiar with by this point.

Far too many times he has pressed himself a little too close to Kyungsoo's side in high hopes, but the General always turns his face away.

“No we can’t, Sehun,” he would growl in his rough voice, and Sehun would sigh loudly in his disappointment.

But today, today Sehun sliding far too close up to him doesn't allow Kyungsoo to avert his eyes in time, letting his gaze focus on Sehun’s deep, captivating brown irises, soft pink lips, unable to bring himself to pull his eyes away. Sehun takes advantage of his hesitation, immediately pressing his lips insistently against Kyungsoo's while he was still internally debating.

Kyungsoo shoves him away, both hands flat on Sehun's chest. Sehun rolls his eyes through Kyungsoo telling him off for it, demanding him to return to formalities to distance them. Sehun thinks of Kyungsoo's own slip ups, the way he sometimes accidentally calls Sehun by his first name, but only turns away silent. He wouldn't bring that up, not when he only wants Kyungsoo to call him that more and more.

Sehun lets his eyes drop to the wound that Kyungsoo's just peeled the dressing from. The area at his waist is by no means any cleaner, but he's already thanking all the stars in the skies that it hasn't gotten worse.

He gets back to pouring the water over it, noting all the blood clots with satisfaction, far better than the initial state, where the clear water became red upon running off from the wound.

One glance up at Kyungsoo and Sehun attempts to rest his hand on the toned muscles at Kyungsoo's abdomen as he continues with his task, as though he needed an anchor to hold onto. Kyungsoo jumps away, but Sehun pulls him back by a grip on his hip, tutting. He takes advantage of Kyungsoo’s distraction from Sehun dabbing at his wound with a clean cloth to move his other hand up from his hip to trail down the front of Kyungsoo's pants.

“ _ Where _ are you touching, Your Highness??” Kyungsoo shouts all of a sudden, immediately turning away from Sehun’s hands wandering much too close to his inner thighs than necessary. “I hardly think that is appropriate,” he snaps loudly, hurriedly pulling on his garments.

“Maybe, but--”

“No, Your Highness, that is unacceptable,” Kyungsoo whirls on him, hissing, because it clearly seems that he hasn’t made his boundaries clear enough-- he hasn’t pushed Sehun far enough, even though it almost feels like he is physically hurting from repelling the Prince with how much his heart aches because of it.

Sehun simply rolls his eyes at him. “Sorry, General Do.”

  
  
  


Yes, it's the rejection, yes it's all the pain of Kyungsoo's invisible barrier of honour and sense of morality that seems to sting Sehun both inwardly and physically whenever he tries to get any closer. But that doesn't quite result in the burning frustration somewhere in his chest that makes his lungs burn as though he's suffocating.

It's how Kyungsoo's always backing away from whatever he feels, because Sehun has an inkling, Sehun is certain that he must feel something at least-- and it irritates him, how he dismisses it in favour of professionalism.

Sehun lets out a small breath, shielding his eyes against the bright golden glow of the sky as the sun just begins to set. He glances behind him from the mouth of their shelter at the General, and when he says “I want to stay out here”, his eyes curve with his smile. 

When Kyungsoo doesn’t respond, continuing to strip off his armour in preparation to sleep, Sehun turns to walk in towards him, taking a seat on the ground beside him. 

“Hyung-nim… I’m lost. What are you doing?”

Kyungsoo pauses for a second because he clearly knows what Sehun’s referring to, but he rolls his eyes at him anyway. “I’m going to sleep, Your Highness. You should too.”

Sehun sighs. “That’s not what I meant hyung-nim-- you know very well what I feel about you and--”

“And you shouldn’t.”

Tears spring unbidden to his eyes, because if there’s one thing that he knows aside from how much he likes Kyungsoo would be that he shouldn’t like Kyungsoo, not like this-- this heart-pounding, breath-holding way, this wanting to kiss, wanting to hold, wanting to touch way. 

“I shouldn’t?” Sehun’s voice is quivering the same way the muscles in his face strain to hold back his sobs. “You’re telling me to quit loving you when I’ve already started, when I’ve already been loving you?” Kyungsoo turns his face slightly in the other direction, and hell if it doesn’t make Sehun raise his voice even more. “Tell me, General, how you expect a man who has fallen off the edge of a cliff to climb back up as though his limbs are not broken.”

And he can’t handle how Kyungsoo’s always shutting him down before he even has the chance to say anything, so he draws in a breath, simply praying to the deities above that his voice would not give out. “If you didn’t want me to fall in love with you, you should’ve never held me in your arms and fled to save me. You should’ve never taken those arrows to your arm. You should’ve never let me ride your horse. You should’ve never kissed me, hyung-nim.” Sehun watches as Kyungsoo physically shies away at that. “But you did. And I am in love with you. So please, hyung-nim, please…”

Kyungsoo sighs, turning towards him and reaches out a hand to gently wipe at the tears just under Sehun’s eye, managing to instantaneously accelerate Sehun's heart beat in a seemingly non-human way, hope flaring bright in his chest--but then he’s shaking his head. “I’m sorry Sehun. It just doesn’t… work like that.”

Sehun doesn't even manage to dwell on Kyungsoo's slip of the tongue, small mistakes that go against his determination to use honourifics.

“I-- The King already has a potential marriage planned for me for when we get back as a… reward of sorts.” Kyungsoo glances up momentarily to gauge Sehun’s expression, which gives nothing away. “For serving him long and well.”

Sehun knows, knows that he's bringing this up to hopefully put him off, put an end to Sehun's hopes and fantasies. But he isn't feeling the devastation, overwhelming sadness or horror-- they pale in comparison to his anger.

He’s angry. Angry at Kyungsoo for not telling him, angry at Kyungsoo for kissing him, angry at himself for falling. What pretty lady from a wealthy household wouldn’t he be able to marry, as a handsome young Prince of the royal family? But no-- he’s furious at himself for managing to fall for the one person that the heavens are deadset on pushing him away from.

“Why did you kiss me hyung-nim? If you don't feel anything for me, if you know you’ll be marrying someone else, if you didn’t mean it, then why did you do it??”

“We can talk about this later, Sehun.”

“No, we can talk about this right now, you can’t just kiss me and then tell me you’re getting married. Why? I know I’m selfish and spoilt and annoying and a handful but I think I at least deserve an explanation.”

“Sehun, I can’t. I--” Kyungsoo breaks off with a sigh, shaking his head the slightest and refusing look up and at the Prince. “Go to sleep, Sehun.”

Sehun isn’t sure when the tears in his eyes toppled over and spilt all down his face, but when he starts yelling he can feel them drying on his cheeks. 

“Were you even going to tell me?!”

Kyungsoo looks away, closing his eyes, because no, he doesn’t want to see Sehun hurt and upset, especially not because of him, but this isn’t something he knows how to salvage--and he simply can’t logically picture a future where they can love each other to their heart’s content-- no matter how much he wants it. 

“No,” he eventually says quietly, knowing fully well how much his words would hurt the boy but hoping it'll at least repel him, even the slightest-- because if Sehun continues to come on so strongly, Kyungsoo isn't sure how much longer his resolve would hold. “I was never going to tell you, because it should have nothing to do with you to begin with.”

Sehun flinches away from him as though physically cut, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Kyungsoo’s frown deepens at that, his hands itching to pull Sehun back into his arms, to wipe all his tears away. “I’m sorry Sehun,” is the only thing he finds he knows how to say. “I’m sorry, alright? I made mistakes... can’t you just forget about it?”

Sehun’s silent aside from the continual sniffling with the endless onslaught of tears--but through his watery eyes he finds it within himself to meet Kyungsoo’s gaze for a moment, the whisper “Can I have one more kiss… please hyung-nim? Please?” leaving his lips.

Kyungsoo stares him down, eyes dancing all over Sehun’s stunning facial features that are still so ridiculously attractive despite all the tears. “Are you going to let this go after it?”

Sehun drags one hand over his face in a poor attempt to wipe his tears, nodding fervently. “I will hyung-nim, just please… please,” he murmurs into the air between them, watching with his heart thumping painfully in his throat as Kyungsoo shuffles the slightest bit closer. Then his fingers are curling around Sehun’s chin, tilting his face upwards.

And it’s not like Kyungsoo doesn’t know that Sehun’s too determined and too stubborn to simply let the matter go, but he presses a kiss to Sehun’s lips anyway. 

Sehun’s expecting it this time around. He immediately presses close, pushing his own body flush against Kyungsoo's, immediately opening his mouth to rapidly move his lips against Kyungsoo's.

He kisses hard, he kisses passionate, he kisses as though he isn't ever going to be satisfied with how much of Kyungsoo he can feel, taste, breathe in. His want to feel, want to remember Kyungsoo's taste and the shape of Kyungsoo's mouth overrides the slight teariness in his eyes, holding onto Kyungsoo tighter and pressing his lips against Kyungsoo's harder.

With a loud sigh, he pulls back as little as he could, just enough to still be breathing Kyungsoo's air, so that he could hit his fist against Kyungsoo's sturdy chest. 

“Please hyung-nim, please kiss me,” he whispers against Kyungsoo's lips, because he can feel Kyungsoo forcing himself to stay still throughout Sehun kissing him-- because he's the only one that's moving at all, and he can't stand it. 

Kyungsoo knows that it disproves his entire argument, but it's the last time isn't it? It's the last time he needs to indulge Sehun, and it's the last time he would have an excuse to do this-- so perhaps it's partially for Sehun but also it's partially for himself when he leans in and takes Sehun's lips roughly in his own.

Sehun makes it last as long as he possibly could-- until his lungs are burning for air in a similar way that his face is on fire and breath coming hard and fast. And when he glances up at Kyungsoo as he says “I'm sorry. Goodnight, Sehun,” he knows that his own lips would be in similar condition to Kyungsoo's reddened, swollen lips.

  
  
  


Kyungsoo isn't wearing his heavy armour anymore, preferring to drape it over the back of the horse to both protect the animal from the sun’s glare as well as saving himself from carrying it. Sehun pants, the humidity in the air only growing with both the sunlight streaming down between the rock walls and the rolling of the darkening clouds in the sky. It makes the air so much more stifling, as if the sight of Kyungsoo in only his thin black robes isn't enough to trigger a similar feeling for the Prince.

Sehun isn't sure whether Kyungsoo's picked up on his staring at the low neckline, and if not, he also isn't sure why he hasn't noticed-- because he's been staring with his eyeballs glued onto Kyungsoo's long neck and the beads of sweat rolling down it, he's been swallowing down his saliva, and he's been sweating from more than just the midday sun.

Sehun is certainly not complaining, not when Kyungsoo continually checks his wounds everyday in fear of infection in this heat, but Kyungsoo is feeling more than uncomfortable. The heaviness of Sehun's gaze on him is nearly too much, and too hard to ignore, so much that he intentionally turns around to only expose his back to Sehun.

Even so, Sehun lets his eyes wander all over his broad back, eying the way certain muscles move when Kyungsoo twists to look at a particular cut on his side.

Kyungsoo turns his head back around the moment he hears shifting behind him, eyeing how Sehun’s getting up from sitting on the ground. “What're you doing?”

“Let me have a look at that for you,” Sehun says, reaching out for Kyungsoo's shirt before Kyungsoo quickly turns away. 

“Uh no, I don't think so.”

“Well you clearly can't reach that one yourself so how are you supposed to treat it?”

Kyungsoo squints at him. “I think I know exactly what you're trying to do.”

“I am simply checking your wound, General. No emotions attached.”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him. “Sehun, I know you, I can see exactly what you're doing.”

Sehun steps back, sighing as he crosses his arms over his chest. “So you'd rather die from an infected wound and leave me to be kidnapped by the rebels because oh no, General Do is too shy to show me the wound he's got on his side.”

Kyungsoo sighs in resignation, eventually turning back around for the cut on his flank to face Sehun. He hears him draw in a breath before feeling his cold fingertips gently prod and poke at his skin.

Kyungsoo’s entire body visibly jolts when he feels Sehun’s hand gradually move around his waist, where he  _ knows  _ he’s begun to stray from the area of the cut.

“Stop wriggling General, I’m just looking for bruising, that’s all, alright?”

Kyungsoo barely even gets a moment to open his mouth and voice his suspicions before he feels Sehun move his hand to rest right against Kyungsoo’s sculpted lower stomach, and Kyungsoo immediately pulls the black fabric of his shirt down, shoving Sehun’s exploring hand away from him.

“That’s enough,” he snaps, tying the band around his waist tightly once again, determinedly not looking at the Prince.

  
  
  
  
  


This is not what Sehun expected.

He had just ran to catch up to Kyungsoo, expecting the other to take it in stride. Sehun didn’t expect himself to let the honourific slip, but he certainly did not expect the General to sink to his knees, with his head bowed, refusing to stand until Sehun promises him to stop calling him that.

“Alright hyung-nim I get it, please get up--”

“That’s General Do for you, Your Highness.”

“Please don’t do this,” Sehun whispers after a long pause, stilling Kyungsoo’s heart for a long moment in guilt. “Don’t call me ‘Your Highness’.”

Kyungsoo simply silently shakes his head, but Sehun turns on his heel, stubbornly facing away from him.

“I hate being called that.”

Kyungsoo glances up, and Sehun’s got his arms crossed childishly over his chest, but his shoulders are tense and square, and rather than holding his head high like he does whenever he’s being defensive, and his eyes are dropped down to the ground.

“I hate how that reminds me of the Palace. I hate that place. Why would you make me feel associated with that place, when we’re out here, so far from it?” Sehun shakes his head, taking a few steps away from Kyungsoo. “I hate hearing it from your mouth even more.”

It is only until they’re walking again, Sehun sighing and trying to get Kyungsoo to promise he will never kneel in the dirt at his feet ever again, that Sehun speaks up. Despite his usually quiet voice, the slight raises in pitch and volume doesn’t go unnoticed by Kyungsoo.

“I don’t have brothers,” Sehun mutters. “Especially not ones who plot with others behind your back to make sure you wind up dead.”

Kyungsoo frowns, turning to gaze at the boy, but his words are stolen out of his mouth once more when he parts his lips to say something but Sehun beats him to it again.

“What are the gold embroidery for, if not to trick people made of silver into thinking they’re valuable? It's only the heirs, and the women with potential heirs, that are ever selected for in the Palace. The jade beads that Queen Myeongui wears around her wrist are indeed real jade, and are perhaps the only real thing in the Palace.”

And Kyungsoo frowns, because that’s not how it should be. “What kind of issues would lead your brothers to this hostility?”

“My existence, perhaps.” Sehun laughs in depreciation. “Perhaps the fact that I will eventually come into the fight between the brothers. Perhaps that I am just another annoying, unnecessary hurdle to jump.”

Kyungsoo simply stares, because he did not expect this, either. He expected onslaughts of small issues that caused the rift between the brothers and Sehun, in particular.

“Or maybe it’s my mother.”

Kyungsoo looks up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Sehun’s mother is the Royal Consort Deok-Bi of the Naju Oh clan-- this marriage, as well as Sehun’s uncle Oh Yeonchong being a Commander of one of the divisions of the army, are the sole reasons behind the lack of troubling demands from the Oh family during a time where the King had been otherwise pressured from all four directions and many different families.

Kyungsoo allows himself to stop, and think. Perhaps he is being too political in his way of thought, because that must not be the considerations for the Princes. No, they would not be thinking of the surprising support provided by the Oh family when the King was forced to maintain diplomatic ties with the Liao in the North in his plans to avoid conflict and maximise the comforts of his people, which would be breached in times of war.

But he realises Sehun’s right. The Naju Oh clan isn’t a particularly big and influential family to begin with-- certainly not one to be dismissed, but perhaps pales in comparison especially with Queen Myeongui’s Jeongju Yoo family.

When Kyungsoo looks up to meet Sehun’s eyes again, he doesn’t quite manage to return the small smile sent his way-- not when he’s imagining the taunting words thrown at Sehun over the years, for simply having a less superior mother, both by family background and by status in the Palace. A simple royal consort receives minimal attention, with her one and only son Sehun showing no potential in the fight for the throne, thus lowering her status even further.

Even after Kyungsoo’s complete, thoughtful silence, Sehun sighing in another few minutes of it, Sehun’s still risking the glances he throws in Kyungsoo’s general direction.

He can feel his own anxiety bubbling ominously away at the front of his thoughts as his eyes land on the man again and again-- he can feel Kyungsoo’s soft gaze on him in a way that the General would never admit to. He can feel his own fears the closer they seem to draw to the capital city, and the Palace which he will eventually need to return to.

And stealing another sly look at the handsome General, facial expression set hard with his pursed lips and straight shoulders, Sehun knows that Kyungsoo won’t be taking no for answer regarding their return.

It’s his duty, his profession and job and responsibility, all those things that translate into bringing Sehun back to the King in one piece after the attack from the Jurchen. And yet, Sehun’s stomach flips itself inside out and Sehun wonders when the thought that Kyungsoo’s only carrying out orders became so nauseating.

  
  
  


With a sigh of relief upon escaping the heat of the afternoon sun, Sehun works on attempting to make the cold rocky floors of the cave as comfortable as he can. He's left in just his inner robes, spreading out his pretty green outer ones beneath him and using another layer of clothing as a blanket, draping it over himself. It would get ridiculously cold during the nights, as Kyungsoo had told him with how the dark clouds began rolling in from the evening and the thickness in the air.

He isn't sure when he fell asleep, listening to the General’s breathing that echoes that tiny bit louder in the dead of the night. But when he wakes, a steady pattering outside drumming the rock that shelters them and the cave even darker from the grey skies, it's to a strange weight lying heavy over his shoulders.

With light, skimming fingers, Sehun feels around and recognises the smooth curves and bumps of Kyungsoo's armour, draped over his upper body. With a frown, he immediately sits up, squinting into the gloom at Kyungsoo's curled up form a metre away.

It barely takes Sehun a few more moments to purse his lips and stand, taking all his makeshift blankets with him. He slides in right beside Kyungsoo, trying his best to hold the armour to keep the metal from clanking, before pulling all his layers of clothes and the armour over both their bodies, pressing himself close to the General’s body and lies his head right on Kyungsoo’s sturdy chest.

Sehun presses his nose into the fabric of Kyungsoo's black robes, attempting to outweigh the smell of rain with the General’s scent.

He falls asleep to the sound of Kyungsoo's breathing in his ear and the faint feeling of the man’s pulse beneath his fingers, with the warmth of both another body beside him and the layers over them.

 

The tickling on the side of his face is what prompted Kyungsoo's brows to furrow, eyes cracking open and attempting to make sense of the warm weight over his torso.

The moment he manages to recognise this mouthful of black, sandy hair, his eyes grow wide, instantly awake upon realising Sehun’s pressed himself flush against him.

The drumming of rain on rock, dimming the lighting in the cave, confirms Kyungsoo's estimates that the heavy clouds would release their loads with how they had been accumulating over the past days. The rhythmic sound is welcome, nearly lulling him back to sleep.

With a soft sigh, Kyungsoo brings his heavy arms up, trying his best to peel off the long limbs that Sehun’s got winding all around him. Sensing Kyungsoo pushing his arms away from his shoulders and waist, Sehun only squeezes him tighter.

“No, Your Highness,” he tries quietly, but Sehun’s stubborn lack of response leaves Kyungsoo resignedly trapped under all his gangly limbs.

He nearly jumps out of his skin, ears picking up Sehun’s murmurs against his chest in his half-asleep state.

“You never call me Sehun anymore, you’re so mean.”

Kyungsoo sighs again, once more attempting to escape from the Prince’s clutches before freezing in place once he picks up Sehun’s quiet mutters again.

“What if I ordered you to call me Sehun?”

Kyungsoo’s mind blanks, leaving him desperately groping around for something to say against that, and coming up completely blank.

“Then… I should, shouldn’t I?”

“What if I ordered you to kiss me again then?”

With another sigh, Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Sehun, no. I only follow orders from the King.”

Sehun leans up in his stubbornness, cracking one eye open and planting a quick, firm kiss to the side of Kyungsoo’s face.

He’s already leaning away by the time Kyungsoo jolts, all wide-eyed and in disbelief.

“It was just a friendly kiss, don’t panic, hyung-nim,” Sehun huffs at him, sitting up before slowly climbing out from underneath the cover of the armour.

“I thought I told you to call me General.”

“But I don’t want to,” Sehun shoots over his shoulder, ruffling his hair as he walks off towards the horse at the entrance of the cave. “I never liked it. So I’m not going to do it.”

It’s at times like this that Kyungsoo’s reminded that Sehun is always going to stay a spoiled child, the way he was raised in the royal palace as a Prince, no matter his gentleness and strangely mature words at times. Kyungsoo watches as Sehun pets the nose of the horse, before standing up as well, dusting off his black robes before beginning to tie his armour back on his body. 

“I like this,” the Prince hums, and Kyungsoo doesn’t look at him, knowing he must have a small smile lifting his lips. “I like getting to wake up in the morning with you.”

He hears the Prince rummaging about, moving further towards the cave entrance and the clunk of something placed on the ground outside. Sehun returns not long after, capping Kyungsoo's water flask re-filled with rainwater and returning it to the pouch on the side of the saddle.

Kyungsoo coughs, hiding his face away from the Prince, lest he catch his flustered expression.

“Can’t you just take me elsewhere?”

Kyungsoo sighs, shaking his head slightly in exasperation at him, not quite picking up the underlying truth and vulnerability in Sehun’s seemingly cheerful tones and joking words, though he’s repeated them countless times already.

  
  
  
  
  


“There,” Kyungsoo points with the tip of the sheath of his sword, looking over at Sehun with a victorious gleam in his deep eyes. “Those are the guard watch towers, we’re nearly there. We’ll be home in a day.”

Sehun’s entire heart drops to Kyungsoo’s boot-clad feet.

He follows the direction Kyungsoo points in, mouth running dry the moment he recognises the vibrant red of Gaegyeong, the Capital of Goryeo, and begins wordlessly shaking his head.

That same colour, the red and gold, the colours of Kyungsoo’s beautifully intricate armour, are the exact same colours as the walls that would rise up around Sehun, enclosing him, the moment he sets foot back into the Palace--because one will only be truly free from the Palace and the scrutiny of the almighty King upon their death.

Yet Sehun’s here, standing in the open with a breeze shifting his messy, dark hair, a man that he loves standing beside him, and Palace life has never seemed further. He entertains the idea of not being able to adapt upon returning before curling in on himself at the very thought of being put back in there, where every word is spoken through a filtered tongue and every smile hiding unreadable alternate intentions.

“No,” he whispers, noticing the General whip his head to stare at him, the long red strings from his helmet fluttering in the wind and swishing with his movement. “I’m not going back there.”

Kyungsoo simply sighs, eyes roaming Sehun’s face. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but yes you are, Your Highness.”

Perhaps it's the sudden return of the formalities that strikes Sehun’s heart down-- because all this time, when Sehun’s been wanting and craving to be closer to the General, Kyungsoo’s only been distancing himself with his polite words. Perhaps it’s also the thought that returning straight into the palm of the King would most certainly mean he would completely lose Kyungsoo to politics and meaningless marriages forged with a high class family.

That’s what makes Sehun’s knees give out, eyes still fixated on the guard towers rising into the sky.

He wants what he wants and he wants Kyungsoo, and the thought of not having Kyungsoo once they get back home tastes a whole lot like the bile that rises up at the back of his throat, or the saltiness of tears when he sniffles.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Sehun, don’t be childish--”

“I don’t care, I just want to  _ be  _ with you, how hard can that be??”

Sehun plonks himself down on the short, springy grass underfoot. He's not dumb-- clearly, considering he had allowed all their time to pass before exposing these thoughts, in consideration for all the consequences that they would be faced with. But now that the end of their time together seems to be drawing too close too soon, he’s finding himself with tears pricking his eyes and a hand reaching for Kyungsoo-- to desperately hold on, hold on to the man he loves so much, who he knows will be slipping out right between his fingers the moment of their return.

“Please hyung, please take me away-- I don’t care if it’s going to be hard, I don’t care where we go.”

The General stares back at him in what seems to be stunned shock for a moment, a moment long enough for Sehun’s entire chest to burn with hope that against the odds, Kyungsoo would say yes, and they’d walk off away from the God forsaken watch towers.

He knows it's in vain, he knows Kyungsoo well enough for that. He knows that he's stubborn -- they both are-- but Kyungsoo's far, far more logical  and reserved, honourable with everything that he does. That doesn't make it hurt any less though. 

“Oh, no,” Kyungsoo mutters instead, taking a step away from Sehun. “No, we need to get you home, Your Highness.”

Sehun visibly flinches back from all the formal titles once again, and Kyungsoo clenches his teeth around the bitter taste of guilt in his mouth.

He sits down beside him on the grass, turning his head to look at Sehun. “I know, Your Highness, I know. But we have to go back. We can’t delay much longer.”

“I hate it so much.”

Kyungsoo stares at Sehun, because his voice is cracking when he speaks and the tears are shining on his cheeks, and he had no idea Sehun wasn’t joking when he pleaded this way. His tone was always light, and gave none of his inner longing away.

When Sehun musters up the guts to speak again, his voice is still shaking, and his eyes still don’t meet Kyungsoo’s. “If we go back I won’t be able to see you that often, let alone be with you.” 

Kyungsoo takes in all of Sehun’s genuine, expressive self in this very moment, letting the thought that he isn’t just being a brat being annoying sink in, and silently reprimanding himself for believing that the Prince is as simple as he is young.

“I’ll have to face everything happening in the Palace.” Sehun shakes his head, finally looking up at the man beside him with tears swimming in his field of view. “I don’t want that. I would be actually happy if I’ve got you, but I can’t even have that, because you'll be married. And you want me to go back there? Go back to stifling gowns and fake smiles? You want me to raise a toast to you at your ceremony?”

Kyungsoo looks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do i feel like this one is shorter than the other two godDAMN IT---


	3. you know i'd die without you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of fic: lyrics from 'My Love' by Lee Hi (Moon Lovers OST)  
> title of chapters 2-3: lyrics from 'Can you hear my heart?' by Epik High ft. Lee Hi (Moon Lovers OST)

Sehun leans against the window sill, shutting out the mockery in his tenth brother’s words, opting for resting his chin on his elbow and gazing out at the paved courtyard, expression blank and unfocused.

He feels the older Prince poke insistently at his shoulder blades from behind before tugging at his short ponytail which dislodges Sehun's headband, and Sehun halfheartedly attempts to slap his hands away. He's not about to deal with him after just managing to walk away from his second brother Wang Pil lecturing him for never turning up to morning assemblies.

And he's most certainly not going to go to the King’s pastoral mornings in his efforts to avoid Kyungsoo-- as the General, he would clearly be attending assemblies, and Sehun isn't sure he's ready to bear hearing his voice and seeing his handsome face all the way across the King’s Great Hall.

Because the moment they arrived back in Gaegyeong, the King would have made his certainly very generous offer to the General, married a pretty girl off to him, and Kyungsoo wouldn't have refused-- if he even wanted to.

Sehun sighs, squinting up at the blue sky overhead and not feeling up to walking in the gardens outside. Even now, he still can't be sure of how much he really affected Kyungsoo, even after all that time.

He tells himself that it'll pass, his short and intense infatuation with the General is a simple passing phase and he would look back on it and laugh at how it must’ve been so strong he mistakenly labelled it as love.

Sehun then questions himself why it's been a month of longing gazes up at the sky from his window and he still thinks endlessly of the man.

He listens to his brother’s loud footsteps as he exits Sehun's room before he reaches up to his headband, pulling it back into place on his forehead. His fingers linger on the soft blue silk, mindlessly tracing the small, white embroidered flowers.

Days pass in the Palace in a strange manner. He isn't involved in the politics or the people around him, giving him no motivation to keep up with the events of each day. It almost seems as though the days mould into each other, with nothing to do and no plots against others to devise-- only thoughts of Kyungsoo, the same thoughts of Kyungsoo, throughout the month.

It's because of that that Sehun nearly forgets to attend the following morning's assembly he's so used to this lack of routine. At least when travelling with Kyungsoo, the General would somehow always wake at the same time every morning-- they'd stop for a drink of water at the same time, they'd find a spot to spend the night at the same time. 

Feeling his thoughts drift subconsciously to the General, Sehun stands a little straighter in his spot at the tail of the ranks of Princes, attempting to subtly glance around the Hall while a minister speaks. Kyungsoo is a face he both longs for and doesn't want to see all at once, but he still finds himself disappointed when he doesn't quite spot him.

Only when he thinks a little more of the General that it strikes him-- how strange it is for him to be missing.

Chancing another glance over again, Sehun frowns, not recognising the man who now stands and speaks from what he knows is Kyungsoo's usual position near the centre, the General’s position. Sehun's eyes lower, frown deepening at the red and golden armour of the unfamiliar man. He's only ever seen one soldier wear the royal colours, standing in that spot.

He lets his eyes drift down the ranks of ministers and nearly chokes when he suddenly spots him-- a head of dark hair bowed, small bun tied with a black ribbon exposed with his helmet off.

His figure is hunched forward the slightest while the other man is speaking, and the details of his armour are a deep green, instead of their usual red. But that doesn't stop the terribly harsh pounding of Sehun's heart in his ribcage the moment his eyes landed on him again.

Kyungsoo's still so handsome. Sehun isn't sure exactly what he expected-- it’s only been a month afterall-- but somehow actually seeing him makes his memories of Kyungsoo pale in comparison.

He used to look so much more majestic with his previous red and gold armour-- even the strings flowing out of the tip of the helmet are replaced with a shimmering emerald green, but Sehun finds he still likes the blood red better.

Which makes him ponder the change until his father stands from the throne, thus dismissing his subjects. Belatedly realising everyone else seems to have knelt on the shining marble floors for the King’s departure, Sehun quickly drops to his knees, keeping his head lowered until he notices the ministers and the crown Prince Wang Wu standing.

Only then does he straighten up from where he had his palms pressed to the floor-- to be immediately dragged off by Wang Hyo. Grumbling about finally being able to get a hold of Sehun, his fifth brother’s pulling him out of the Great Hall despite all his protests.

He cranes his head around, finding the Hall empty, and Kyungsoo nowhere to be seen.

 

“What happened to General Do?”

The guard gives Sehun a suspicious look despite bowing his head in respect, and Sehun sighs. They should know that Sehun has absolutely nothing to do with the politics regarding fighting for the throne amongst the brothers-- his question is certainly not for advantaging himself against the other Princes. 

Sehun rolls his eyes impatiently before leaning towards the two guards standing at the entrance of the Great Hall once again. It was hard enough getting away from Hyo, the manipulative bastard, and he simply just wants to satisfy his craving for Kyungsoo-- he just wants to know about him. 

“I'll ask you again. What happened with General Do?”

The two guards glance at each other before one man with a short beard speaks up, dipping his head to the Prince.

“He is no longer the General, Your Highness.”

“What?!”

The man seems to jump at Sehun's sudden exclamatory shout, lowering his head in fear that he had angered him.

Sehun blinks in complete confusion, not bothering to wipe the look of disbelief off his face. “What do you mean he's not the General??”

“He's been demoted to the position of a secondary Commander of one of the three divisions of the Byeolmuban army, Your Highness.”

Sehun lets the silence stretch out as he attempts to take this new information in, brows furrowed.

Kyungsoo's so completely trusted by both the King and the hundreds and thousands of men he commanded that the possibility that his status has changed hasn't even occurred to Sehun-- and it's still unbelievably ridiculous even hearing it with his own ears.

“How did that happen? Who's the new General??”

The guards seem to be taken aback by the harsh tone in Sehun’s words, or by his intense interest, or both.

“General Yun Gwan is the new General, Your Highness.”

“But how did it happen?? I don't even know who that is,” Sehun mutters to himself. “It's impossible, how could General Do be replaced…”

He turns his stare onto one of the guards, who stutters out a response. “I-I don't know, Your Highness, I'm sorry.”

Sehun wordlessly digs into the pocket in one of the many folds of his robes at his chest, pulling out a silver piece that glints tauntingly in the afternoon sunlight.

He holds it up, leaning towards the two men.

“Tell me,” he holds the silver out. “Why was General Do demoted?”

To his surprise, both soldiers simply bow their heads.

“I'm sorry I don't know, Your Highness.”

Sehun retires to his own bedroom that evening, frustrated sigh leaving his lips. None of the guards around the Palace seemed to know the reason, or were willing to risk it to tell him. They did all, however, swear by their lives to remain silent about what Sehun asked them though.

It looks like his curiosity will eat at him from the inside until he finds out for himself.

  
  


His eyes zero in on Kyungsoo the very next morning.

Admittedly Sehun had grinned to himself in his satisfaction at his brothers’ surprised faces upon seeing Sehun present in pastoral mornings two days in a row, but today, he learns to dodge Wang Hyo, slipping away the moment the King leaves his throne.

Sehun swallows down the butterflies that threaten to fly out of his throat at the mere thought of looking in Kyungsoo's eyes again, hearing his voice, determinedly weaving through the crowd of ministers leaving the Great Hall.

With an outstretched hand, he's suddenly grasping onto Kyungsoo's wrist just before he descends the steps out of the Hall, and his breath stops short in his chest.

The shorter man turns, eyes wide at the interruption before stretching even further once his gaze lands on the Prince.

Wordlessly, Sehun releases his wrist, knowing that he doesn't need to tell him for Kyungsoo to understand.

He silently follows Sehun as he quickly slinks behind the Great Hall, crossing multiple corridors and across a small, unused pathway through a garden before the Prince suddenly ducks sideways, dragging Kyungsoo in with him.

Sehun shuts the flimsy wooden door behind him, watching as Kyungsoo's eyes roam around, taking in the sight of Sehun's bedroom.

“Commander?” Sehun watches as Kyungsoo's eyes rapidly shift to land on him, and the attention takes his breath away. “What's all of that about?”

He searches Kyungsoo's face, the need to know the only thing that fuels his words-- the need to confirm his suspicions.

“You didn't marry.”

It's more of a statement rather than question, but Kyungsoo's silence is his confirmation.

“You’re lucky the King likes you enough to keep you around, why would you take that risk and anger him? Are you crazy??”

For the first time in over a month, he hears Kyungsoo's voice when he parts his lips to respond, and Sehun can't believe he's nearly forgotten how deep and soft it is.

“I didn’t want to marry her.”

“But  _ why _ ?”

Kyungsoo sighs, letting silence drag out between them, gnawing at his bottom lip between his teeth with his eyes closed. When he eventually responds, his voice is quiet, so much that Sehun almost assumed that he misheard him entirely.

“She’s not you.”

And he  _ knows,  _ God damn it, Sehun knows Kyungsoo felt something, at least  _ something  _ for him, but it’s different hearing the admission from Kyungsoo’s lips, and it messes up the regular pumps of his heart.

He moves the slightest bit closer, the hope that he may finally be getting what he’s only dreamed about for so long overriding anything else. 

“What do you mean, hyung-nim?” Sehun manages to force out, not caring how his voice wobbles, because he needs this, he thinks he at least deserves to hear it.

“I couldn’t marry her,” Kyungsoo mumbles, gaze on Sehun’s chest rather than up at his eyes. “I couldn’t even think about loving her, when she isn’t you.”

Sehun’s heart is singing, soaring, and he wishes it isn’t because he’s not hearing Kyungsoo’s words over the ecstatic rushing of blood in his ears.

“I don’t care about what you feel or don’t feel for her.” Sehun leans down the slightest, eyes trying to search out Kyungsoo’s and hold them in his gaze. “I just want to know what you feel for me.”

Kyungsoo’s gaze is shaking, and he barely lasts a moment of maintaining eye contact before he looks down again, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. Then he mutters eventually, with the quietest possible voice in the silence of Sehun’s room. 

“I think I might love you too.”

It’s in the quiet that follows that Sehun considers his entire body to have stopped function all together, because he’s not hearing the drumming of his heart, he’s not feeling it shooting out of his chest, and his brain is barely running. He’s shocked into utter silence for all of three seconds before he’s immediately swooping down to press his mouth desperately against Kyungsoo’s-- and it’s when Kyungsoo starts kissing him back without being asked that Sehun could feel his body being re-ignited with the flying of sparks in his brain, down his veins, throughout his entire body. 

Kyungsoo’s holding onto Sehun oh-so-tightly, pulling the Prince against him as close as he possibly could, because he’s needed this too, he’s needed this as much as Sehun has been wanting it. And the only way he could hope to convey that is with how passionately he’s kissing him, so much so that Sehun completely forgets how to breathe, letting all his air flow in between their lips, letting Kyungsoo suck his lungs empty.

Kyungsoo kisses him for as long as he dares, because even though he’s a soldier and he’s bloodied on the battlefield far more than he’s pristine and prim in the Palace, he still knows all too well to make every move as though stepping on thin ice, where you don’t know whether there are eyes watching or ears eavesdropping. But even so, when he pulls away he’s still holding Sehun close, panting with his breath coming hard and resting his head against Sehun’s chest.

Sehun leans down the slightest, letting himself drop a kiss to the crown of Kyungsoo’s head.

“I know it was a risky move,” Kyungsoo eventually murmurs. “But I couldn’t marry someone I don’t even know when you’re all I wanted.”

Sehun takes a moment to process his words before scrunching his eyebrows in a frown. “But… you didn’t want me.”

Kyungsoo sighs. “No… I did want you-- still do want you-- but I wasn’t about to be completely irrational and just put everything down to be with you. I know when things don’t work out, Sehun.”

Sehun’s trying his hardest to swallow down the tears that have sprung up out of the blue because he does know, but the problem is how much he wants it to work out so,  _ so  _ badly. He lowers himself, crouching to search Kyungsoo’s eyes, and his voice comes out wobbly and weak yet again, but that’s the least of his concerns. “But we can try, right? I’m no use here, and you’ve already been demoted because of me…”

Kyungsoo glances up at him, lifting a gentle hand to smooth a thumb over the curve of Sehun's cheek with a soft look in his eyes and a slight smile on his lips.

It takes Kyungsoo longer than it honestly should have to respond because his heart has already been shouting the answer at him, but when he does, Sehun’s entire being glows in undisguised delight.

“We can try.”

  
  
  


Sehun takes his chance, while the King is reading through a scroll document, to quickly look up across the Hall. He beams at how he finds Kyungsoo looking back at him at the same exact moment. Their eyes meet, sweet smiles sent in each other's direction, before Sehun quickly ducks his head shyly again, partly to compose himself and partly to avoid any other ministers or his brothers catching the look on his face when he stares at Kyungsoo.

The King, out of the blue, looks up from the parchment to Kyungsoo, questioning him for his view on their relationship with the Southern tribes which they have been serving as a peaceful option. Though Kyungsoo seems to have been caught unawares, perhaps distracted by Sehun, which the Prince realises with a small pang of guilt, he answers smoothly-- and rather than agree with General Yun Gwan’s more violent suggestion, the King appears to consider Kyungsoo's experience, and Sehun shoots him another small impressed grin.

The fact that Sehun has begun taking notice of the events of the time, simply due to Kyungsoo's involvement, doesn't come as a shocking surprise to himself-- but he still sees the suspicious glances and confused looks his brothers and the other ministers seem to constantly send him, at a loss for Sehun's sudden active engagement in it all.

Listening to Kyungsoo's voice during assemblies whenever the King seems to address him, which is nearly as frequent as the amount of times the King talks to Yun Gwan, is always something Sehun secretly enjoys. The man’s voice, low and soothing, echoing across the Hall never fails to bring a small smile to Sehun's face-- but even so, that is never his real motivation behind attending every morning.

The moment the King stands, thus dismissing his subjects, Sehun exits the Great Hall through the Eastern arch, stepping out into corridors he knows well. He would follow the faint sounds of Kyungsoo's footsteps just in front of him, knowing to keep his distance between them, drawing as little attention to the fact that they're headed in the same direction as possible.

Because he knows to step through a door way into a smaller corridor before he would feel warm hands pull him into a corner, instantly ambushed in the firm hold of two strong arms.

Sehun would grin wide and pleased, trying to wrap his entire body around Kyungsoo, and the shorter man would chuckle, pulling Sehun in closer and running his hands up and down Sehun’s sides.

“You seem to know so many strangely hidden spaces,” Kyungsoo had mused quietly the very first time, where he had allowed Sehun to lead him around, eyes glancing at the fading red paint surrounding them.

Every so often, Kyungsoo would notice Sehun walking off and understand to follow his lead, most certainly ending up in a completely new spot he would have no hope finding on his own, hidden away from the prying eyes all around the Palace.

“Of course, what else would I have spent my days doing when I didn’t attend pastoral mornings or classes?”

Even though he doesn't mention his relief that that has changed, even if it is only because of Kyungsoo, the gentle look that Kyungsoo gives him makes it feel as though he understands Sehun’s gratefulness for having him.

Otherwise, their meetings would simply be in the courtyard surrounding the Great Hall, nothing but quick conversation, excuses to stand close and talk to each other. Their quick glances and little secretive smiles in each other's direction, regardless of where they happen to meet in the Palace, goes unnoticed by anyone else.

“Let me just-- greet the Commander,” Sehun struggles out of his fourth and fifth brothers’ holds, not minding the way they follow close on his heel as he quickly approaches Kyungsoo amongst the other men leaving the Hall.

“Hy-- Commander Do,” Sehun is quick to correct himself, so used to calling Kyungsoo by honourifics when they're alone together that it's gotten ridiculously difficult to refrain from letting it slip out.

Kyungsoo bows, a small polite smile on his face as Sehun properly greets him before he bids him goodbye and turns back to the bewildered looks on his brothers’ faces.

Sehun waves it off dismissively, attempting to convince them that it's simply because he's greeted everyone else and hadn't yet had the chance to greet the Commander.

  
  
  
  


Kyungsoo’s just heading out of the Great Hall before he notices a shimmer of green robes in the corner of his vision-- then there’s a tapping on his shoulder, and he spins around to meet Sehun’s familiar, shining eyes.

He bows in pretend formality, muttering a “Greetings, Your Highness,” and so does Sehun, dipping his head politely under the scrutinising gaze of the ministers and other passing Princes.

With a slight jerk of his head, Sehun turns and sets off, letting Kyungsoo follow him away from the open space of the grand Hall and towards a side corridor that branches out from it. All of a sudden, perhaps too soon, Sehun’s ducking behind a large red pillar, dragging Kyungsoo in behind him.

“What are you doi--” Kyungsoo barely manages to get out before Sehun’s started kissing him, gripping the front of Kyungsoo’s robes in tight fists in a poor attempt to allow their bodies to be closer.

He blinks rapidly, smiling into the familiarity of the kiss that he’s missed so much-- trying to sink into the feeling of Sehun’s smooth lips against his own-- before his ears pick up footsteps around the other side of the pillar.

Immediately, they break apart, Sehun quickly wiping his mouth while Kyungsoo clears his throat, smoothing down his robes.

Kyungsoo steps out from behind the pillar, recognising the clinking of metal as armour and the sheath of a sword, and confirming his suspicions when a fellow soldier quickly kneels before him the moment he appears.

“What is it?” he says, quickly motioning for the other to stand.

“General Yun Gwan is hoping to have a word with you, Commander.”

Kyungsoo nods, following the other soldier as they hurry away-- but not before glancing back over his shoulder and smiling slightly when he spies Sehun peeking out from behind the pillar. Sehun pouts, watching him go, and Kyungsoo’s smile softens before turning away and attempting to wipe it off his face.

  
  
  
  


Sehun nearly jumps straight out of his own skin, scrambling up to open his bedroom door.

With a loud gasp, he flings himself into the arms of his beloved soldier, immediately pulling himself as close to Kyungsoo's body as possible.

The man chuckles, a hand coming up to rest against the back of Sehun's neck. He leans down to press his lips fleetingly against Sehun’s shoulder before inviting himself in, shutting the door with a soft creak behind him.

The Prince pulls back, taking in Kyungsoo’s clothes with a frown. He’s not wearing his armour, bloodied and covered in dirt, as Sehun had expected. His helmet is nowhere to be seen, dressed instead in casual grey robes with black collars and borders. The slightest indication of Kyungsoo’s relatively high status lies in the small, intricate embroidered patterns of herons and lilies in white string on the grey fabric. 

Sehun takes a small step back, blinking in undisguised surprise.

Even after all this time, with their secret relationship, he has still never seen Kyungsoo in casual clothing, either always dressed in his armour or formal black gowns when he enters the Palace as one of the King’s loyal subjects and advisors.

“You’re not wearing your armour,” he states plainly, and Kyungsoo looks down at himself. “When did you get back? From the Northern border?”

“Yesterday,” Kyungsoo smiles apologetically. “In the evening. I wanted to see you, but I was sent off to be seen by the doctor.”

Immediately, Sehun’s glancing over the other man, eyebrows knit together in complete concern, worrying his lip once again between his teeth, a habit he’s gotten into and can’t seem to break out of every time he knows the Byeolmuban army is sent off to fight. “Where? You were hurt?? Is it bad??”

Kyungsoo’s all soft smiles and warm gazes, grabbing Sehun’s hands. “Just a shoulder wound,” he shrugs gingerly, vaguely pointing at his right shoulder and Sehun bites his bottom lip harder, remembering that he had hugged Kyungsoo when he saw him just then. “It’s the only concerning one, none of the other cuts were very deep or big, it’s not a problem.”

Sehun reaches up, laying a gentle hand on the shoulder Kyungsoo pointed at, sharp eyes searching his face.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers quietly.

Kyungsoo smiles, shaking his head, before prodding at Sehun’s lips with a raised finger. “No, now stop chewing your lips off, I’ll be fine.”

Sehun runs a tongue subconsciously over the terrible condition of his lips, feeling the skin ripped at parts and raw at others.

“It’s not my fault,” Sehun protests quietly, eyes following Kyungsoo’s hand as he raises it, wiping his thumb gently over the spots where Sehun chewed a mess out of his lips. “Just today, the tutor we have was reprimanding me. Apparently I wasn’t listening to him read the poem, and then I couldn’t stop pacing in the classroom.”

Kyungsoo lets out a quiet huff of laughter, lowering his hand from Sehun’s lips.

“It’s your fault, hyung-nim,” Sehun pouts, grabbing onto Kyungsoo’s hand before it dropped to his side. “You got me in trouble, and look at my lips.” Though Kyungsoo laughs, Sehun doesn’t miss the way his eyes drop down for a split second. “How are you going to take responsibility for all this, hyung-nim?”

He doesn’t expect Kyungsoo to link their fingers together, grinning wide.

“I have an idea,” Kyungsoo says, in his usual low, velvety voice, tugging Sehun out of the room, shooting an absolutely stunning smile over his shoulder at him.

 

Sehun has no idea what he expected Kyungsoo to suggest, but it’s certainly not the local Exorcism festival in the town just beyond the Palace.

They swap it around for a change-- Kyungsoo has his hair pinned up in a neat bun out of his face, while Sehun’s usual headband is missing, letting hair slightly frame his face and drape over the edges of his forehead. They blend in with the crowd of commoners easily enough-- even Sehun’s robes are admittedly bland, a simple dark blue with white edges, especially considering he had not expected a surprise visit from Kyungsoo in the middle of the night.

Kyungsoo’s robes, though average in design, are surprisingly fitting for the soldier. Sehun takes note of the way they accentuate his shoulders, nearly in a similar way to the armour, pulled tight at his waist, and how the reflections of the light of the lanterns around him ripple across the embroidery across Kyungsoo’s chest. It makes Sehun’s breath hitch in the best way, it makes him think of living together with Kyungsoo, being able to see him dressed casually all day, every day.

“Was the battle won?” Sehun asks, pulling himself close to the other man, careful to avoid touching his shoulder. “What were you trying to gain?”

“The Hamhung plains. The King wanted to show that he wouldn't grant that land to the Northern Jurchen tribes, and we managed to advance into the Tumen at the same time.” Kyungsoo watches him pocket his pale, mint green headband, and Sehun looks up suddenly at him.

“Wait a moment, do you still have my headband? The blue one?”

Kyungsoo thinks of the pretty blue satin, dark with his blood, delicate white flowers contrasting against his rough and weathered metal armour.

Wordlessly, he reaches into the innermost fold of his robes, pulling out the familiar piece of cloth. Though lacking any residual blood stains, Sehun recognises it immediately. He looks up at the soldier, eyes round. 

“Wait you carry it with you?” Sehun lets out a small disbelieving laugh. “Like a handkerchief?”

“Like a handkerchief, I suppose,” Kyungsoo echoes. “Do you want it back?”

He seems hesitant, hand still holding it close to him, and Sehun giggles.

“No you keep it. It had your blood on it, I'm not taking it back.”

Sehun stops as Kyungsoo laughs, pulling him aside to watch the flickering of the lanterns in the glowing lotuses across the water of the small river, the ripples breaking up the light into shifting lines that catch his attention. He mumbles appreciative words, sending a smile in Kyungsoo’s direction, and makes sure to lace their hands even tighter together, pulling Kyungsoo into his side.

Sehun’s smiling wide when Kyungsoo blows on the rice cakes before lifting it to the Prince’s lips, seemingly delighted beyond belief at the pleased look on Sehun’s face. And even though no one along the street recognise them as the twelfth Prince and a Commander of the Royal Army, Kyungsoo drags him by the hand to a stall anyway, holding up masks in front of his face.

Sehun laughs at the blue mask of a goblin, taking it from Kyungsoo’s hands to toy with, while Kyungsoo picks up a different red one with thick eyebrows. Sehun doubles over, insisting that it looks exactly the same as the soldier and Kyungsoo throws him a half-hearted look of exasperation.

Only later, Sehun pressed against the cold wall of one of the quiet side-alleyways, that he realises the use of the masks-- Kyungsoo’s licking into his mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness of the honey from the rice cakes earlier on Sehun’s tongue, one hand gripping Sehun’s hip and one hand holding up the mask. Sehun similarly holds his own up too, shielding them from any prying eyes despite standing in the shadows behind buildings.

Sehun lets out a quiet whine, Kyungsoo humming as he devours Sehun’s lips despite their chapped state, their noises drowned out by the loud music and chattering from the main street. The sweet words and soft ‘ _ I love you _ ’s whispered between them similarly remain as each others’ secrets, unknown to all other ears.

  
  
  
  


He ignores Kyungsoo's soft protests, making sure to slot his own fingers in the gaps between Kyungsoo's, pulling him along.

The soldier is pliant, and Sehun shoots an apologetic look over his shoulder at him-- the man must be exhausted, being dragged off by Sehun the moment the Prince got a hold of him, even though he only just arrived back in Gaegyeong from a battle.

Sehun rounds a corner, easily navigating the maze that is the Palace even in the dim after sunset, holding onto Kyungsoo's hand while his other hand grips the handle of a small lantern, lighting up the pavement underfoot. He isn't even sure Kyungsoo recognises the East wing of the Palace, where he has no business in-- it mostly houses the King’s concubines, but is similarly known and popular amongst the Palace inhabitants for the large garden Sehun rounds into, Kyungsoo trailing after him. 

“The Queen of the Night is going to bloom tonight!”

“A what?”

Sehun sits him down on the paved pathway underfoot infront of a straggly and yellowing plant that barely even goes up to Kyungsoo's thigh, ignoring the strange look the man sends him. 

But Sehun's holding the lantern and the flickering of the candlelight against his sharp features is oh-so-beautiful. 

Kyungsoo leans in, brave under the shelter of night, pressing his lips softly, sweetly, lovingly to Sehun's.

When they pull away Sehun looks sideways abashedly, and Kyungsoo isn't sure whether the red on his cheeks is a glow from within or from the light of the small fire.

But then Sehun's eyes are lighting up and gasping, excitedly pulling at Kyungsoo's arm-- and there, a huge white flower is in bloom where there previously was nothing more than a small pink bulb and withering yellow leaves.

Kyungsoo stares, shocked, at the plant.

In the silence that follows, both of them sitting on the ground, admiring the pale glow of the beautiful flower, Sehun speaks up. 

“We call it the Queen of Night,” he whispers, turning to look at Kyungsoo. “It looks like nothing much, but it only blooms for a very short time once a year, at night, and the flower dies before dawn, which makes it all the more mysterious, I suppose.”

Kyungsoo turns to look at the Prince, eyes taking in all of his beauty that glows brighter in the night than the flower does. “You look like you want to say something more,” he murmurs, face exceptionally close, watching Sehun's eyelashes flutter when he blinks.

The Prince fidgets the slightest, looking down at the ground in apparent embarrassment. When he speaks his voice is so soft Kyungsoo finds it difficult to realise that it wasn't a figment of his imagination.

“Some people think it blooms during festivals, say a connection between the Earth and the Heavens when the Moon is full in Mid-Autumn.” Sehun pauses and Kyungsoo doesn't let his eyes stray from his profile. “Others say that rather than for a particular festival, the Queen of Night celebrates the miraculous, unadulterated love between two people…”

When Sehun glances up shyly at the soldier from beneath his eyelashes, he flushes slightly in the flickering light of the candle upon finding Kyungsoo gazing at him, smile and eyes as soft as his caress when he moves one hand up to brush against the curve of Sehun’s cheek. With that hand, Kyungsoo pulls him in, and Sehun’s eyes flutter shut to feel the brush of Kyungsoo’s lips against his forehead. 

It sends tingles down his spine, down every nerve, and he’s smiling wide from it, opening his eyes to find Kyungsoo staring at him with an identical look on his face.

“Did you drag me out in the middle of the night just to look at this flower?”

Sehun laughs quietly under his breath, nodding in his embarrassment, until Kyungsoo presses his forehead against Sehun’s with a grin.

“I love it.” 

Sehun feels his body thrum with the warmth of it all--Kyungsoo’s breath against his face, Kyungsoo’s skin against his skin, Kyungsoo’s words in the cold night air.

He isn’t sure, but he might have mouthed a soundless confession into the space between their faces. And he thinks Kyungsoo did the same back.

  
  
  
  
  


Sehun’s disappointment at not being assigned Kyungsoo for the journey to the hunting grounds is short-lived.

The King’s annual hunt means a short day travel to outside the capital city for a stretch of land with game, and instead of Kyungsoo, Sehun’s guard to escort him this time is unbelievably boring and particularly unattractive.

He sighed the whole way, thinking of his lover’s thick lips and sturdy build, thinking of their first journey together, and the way they shot playful remarks at each other despite Kyungsoo being known as a strict and serious General. Sehun frowns, knowing that Kyungsoo’s the escort for one of his other brothers this time--the tenth and eleventh, perhaps?

That’s what he hopes. He’s watched the rest of all his brothers team up in interesting groups, and the tenth and eleventh Princes seem to follow their sixth brother Seo as though they were flies buzzing around a donkey. Though relatively harmless, the same can’t be said about some of the other Princes, the seventh and ninth in particular--religious supporters of their second brother Wang Pil. That is what concerns Sehun, afraid Kyungsoo would be swept up in the rivalry between Crown Prince Wu and Pil’s competition. That is not a mess that Sehun understands how to solve if Kyungsoo is to be involved, especially if he is to be blamed for any traitorous behaviour-- he could only hope that Kyungsoo’s quick thinking and bright mind saves him from the traps he’s certain his brothers will lay out for him.

Afterall, it must be advantageous to gather a Commander of the Royal Army’s support if you are to fight your way to the throne-- and knowing the Army’s respect for their previous General, Sehun knows that Kyungsoo must be a popular target for young power-hungry Princes to ally with.

“Did any of the others try to get you to side with them?” Sehun asks the moment they’re away from the rest of the Royals and servants and guards after they’ve reached the camping grounds.

The Royals are to rest, the accompanying soldiers to set up guard while the servants work to construct the makeshift shelter for the short two day duration of the hunt. It’s during all this activity that Sehun watches Kyungsoo finish giving out orders before approaching him, dragging him off into the trees for some time to themselves before they’re inevitably separated again.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Sehun,” Kyungsoo smiles gently at him. “I’m more well-versed with Palace politics than you are.”

Sehun huffs. “Who were you escorting?”

“Seventh Prince Wang Gyo.”

Sehun clucks his tongue, making a face of disdain that Kyungsoo laughs quietly at. “He didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“No, he was certainly not as difficult to handle than you were on the journey to Namgyeong last time.”

Sehun laughs, hitting the armour at Kyungsoo’s shoulder softly, playfully trying to push him away even though Kyungsoo barely budges.

“Enough about politics,” Sehun murmurs, looking around to ensure that they’ve walked far enough from the camp that no one would witness how he presses his forehead to Kyungsoo’s, since he had taken his helmet off once arriving at the camp site. “I missed you. I wish you were with me.”

He felt Kyungsoo’s smile more than he saw it. The soldier leans up to mould his lips over Sehun’s, the sounds of their mouths separating before reattaching strangely loud in the relative quiet of the woods around them.

Sehun’s eyes flutter open when Kyungsoo fully pulls away, wanting to chase his lips but wordlessly agreeing that they must be missed back at camp.

  
  
  


The King places his goblet down, glancing around the horseshoe shaped arrangement of dining tables for the Royals to sit at until his eyes rest on the youngest Prince, digging into his dinner with fervour and determinedly not meeting the gazes of anyone around him.

“Sehun.”

The Prince looks up, quickly wiping his mouth, dipping his head towards his father.

“Where were you all afternoon? You should have been at archery matches with the rest of your brothers.”

Sehun freezes, thinking of running off with a certain soldier and gripping leather reins in his hand, feeling wind whip through his hair, Kyungsoo’s voice reminding him to sit up straight in the saddle.

It makes him think that he wouldn't embarrass himself too much even if there was an actual hunt on horseback as there usually is every year-- he was taught by Kyungsoo, after all.

He’s trying to tune out the snickering of his seventh and ninth brothers, brain desperately trying to come up with an excuse for his absence that isn’t ‘ _ sorry I was kissing one of your royal soldiers in the woods’ _ .

“I… uh…” he stammers intelligently. “I was being taught archery elsewhere, Your Majesty,” he manages to stutter out.

“Is that so?” the King raises an eyebrow, placing his chopsticks down and leaning forwards in his seat. “By who?”

Sehun gulps.

“...Commander Do?”

Sehun flinches slightly upon noticing how silence settled across the dining room, especially with the interest in his father’s eyes. The looks he’s being sent by his brothers are even more terrifying as they take in this new information.

“Is that so?” the King says again. “In that case, you must be quite well versed with a bow and arrow. You can show the rest of your brothers what you learnt from him tomorrow.”

Sehun plasters a small smile on his face, nodding absentmindedly at the King. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  
  


“Hyung-nim!!”

Kyungsoo jolts up, scrambling up from his chair and neglecting his candlelit reading in favour of peering out of his tent to find the young Prince looking completely panicked back at him.

“Sehun??” he glances around, before pulling him into his tent. “What--”

“You  _ have  _ to teach me archery because I skipped out today.”

“What?”

“I need to be like really good at it by tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

With a frustrated sigh, Sehun plonks himself down on the rug on the floor of Kyungsoo’s tent with his legs splayed out. “The King asked me where I was today, and I couldn’t exactly say I was off playing around with one of his guards, so I told him you were teaching me archery while my brothers were at archery practice-- and now he thinks I’m really good at it because you taught me, and he wants me to show my skills tomorrow,” he says all in one breath, and when he looks up and finds Kyungsoo hiding a laugh behind one hand, he pouts, kicking at him with one foot. “Why’re you laughing?? I’m in  _ distress _ , hyung-nim!”

With the hand still over his mouth, Kyungsoo nods mutely at him, moving across his tent to throw on his armour.

“You won’t need that, I won’t be shooting you.”

“No, but we have to wear this whenever we are in the presence of royal figures.”

Sehun steps up to him, getting up from the floor to tug at his robes.

“It’s just me, I don’t care--”

“But if someone stumbles upon us, they will.”

Sehun pauses before nodding, pressing a fleeting kiss to Kyungsoo’s ear. He steps back, unabashedly staring as Kyungsoo pulls on the rest of the metal, securing it around his strong build.

Perhaps that should have warned Kyungsoo, that under the cover of night, in the middle of a dense cluster of trees, that it would be less practice and more touching, more kissing, but perhaps he doesn’t mind that so much either. 

He hops off his horse, securely tying her to a nearby tree before moving back to raise his arms up for Sehun to fall into when he slides off.

Sehun’s smile is blinding even in the shadows of the trees, and even more so when Kyungsoo positions himself behind Sehun, hands over his hands, murmuring into his ear as he pulls the arrow back.

Sehun’s arrow barely hits the trunk of the tree let alone the parchment that Kyungsoo pinned onto the tree, but his eyes are still shining, and Kyungsoo can’t help his lingering touches on the side of his face, or the caresses he leaves on Sehun’s cheeks.

He hands Sehun another arrow, pressing up behind him again to move his arms, helping him hold the bow steady and pull the arrow back as far as he could. This time, it just grazes the edge of the parchment and Sehun turns to him, victorious.

“Do I get a kiss for that?”

Kyungsoo huffs out a laugh, walking away to pull the arrows out of the tree. “Not until you can hit it without my help.”

Sehun pouts at that, but argues no further, eagerly pulling back the arrow once Kyungsoo hands him one again. Kyungsoo’s murmuring approving words at his posture, little reminders to keep his shoulder down and to close one eye-- Sehun holds it until he couldn’t anymore, letting the arrow fly. He’s not surprised when it doesn’t even hit the right tree, though he is disappointed at losing his prize.

He turns to pout at Kyungsoo, who only shakes his head chuckling.

“You’re definitely not getting a kiss for that, Your Highness.”

Perhaps the resolve only grows in Sehun after Kyungsoo presses a kiss to his lips after he does manage to hit the parchment an unknown number of hours later. With a quiet cheer, Sehun pulls him back in, happily mouthing at Kyungsoo’s lips and nuzzling his nose against Kyungsoo’s face, grinning.

Even if he doesn’t make a good hit for several more arrows it doesn’t seem to dampen the Prince’s mood, because whenever he does shoot well, Kyungsoo is always ready and armed with kisses to shower on him, making Sehun giggle in between kissing him back. 

Even though Sehun didn’t hit the parchment, he turns around anyway, batting his eyelashes at the soldier.

“Do I get one for good posture?”

“No!” Kyungsoo exclaims with a huff of a laugh escaping him. “Your right elbow was up in the air and your left arm kept wobbling. Show me again.”

Sehun grins good-naturedly before letting his face fall into an expression of focused seriousness, taking the positions of all his long limbs into consideration before firing, rather than shooting randomly and hoping for a good shot, which is admittedly what he has been doing in a poor attempt to score more kisses. And when he manages to pin the parchment to the tree trunk, the first thing he does is turn immediately to Kyungsoo, a wide smile on his lips as Kyungsoo wordlessly pulls him in to press their lips together. 

Even though it’s some ungodly hour into the morning, where Kyungsoo could see the sun just rising above the horizon if he squints between the trees overhead, Sehun’s still chattering away, pouting when Kyungsoo tries to drag him back to their respective tents.

“His Majesty would want his sons up for archery practice in the early hours of the morning, Sehun-ah, you’re going to be getting a less than ideal amount of sleep before they wake you up, and you’re not going to be hitting the target in archery practice in that case.”

Sehun pouts, leaning against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “But I’m not sleepy, hyung-nim.”

“You’re not shooting straight anymore, try telling me that again.”

With a defiant murmur, Sehun allows Kyungsoo to adjust the saddle for him to swing himself onto before Kyungsoo jumps on the horse right behind Sehun, wrapping both arms around Sehun as he heads back at a trot towards the camp.

 

Sehun feels his blood run cold when he watches the arrow sail in the air-- and miss the inner circle of the target by two rings. He glowers at the other princes, trying to tune out the gleeful laughter of Yun and Chim, looking towards Kyungsoo instead.

The soldier’s standing close to the King’s seat, though his previous position right next to the King has been replaced by the new General. But even so, he’s standing at the front of the small group of guards gathered to look on during the archery practice, and Sehun’s eyes catch on the tiny tilt of Kyungsoo’s lips. He sighs, silently loading another arrow on before pulling his arm back.

He tries to think of the small smile Kyungsoo sent in his direction, tries to think of the way Kyungsoo held his arm out the night before, and tries to think of Kyungsoo whispering in his ear to  _ “lower your shoulder, hold your left hand steady, close one eye”. _

The arrow flies out, hitting the edge of the inner ring, and Sehun glows under the shocked whispers of his sisters at the edge of the crowd and the applause of the guards.

He glances at them again, noticing Kyungsoo’s wide smile, and feels his heart thumping in his chest as loud as the thud of the arrow hitting the target. 

Still discontent, Sehun quickly grabs another arrow, breathing out slowly through his mouth as he raises the bow, closing one eye and pulling it back.

This time, the arrow hits the dead centre of the target, and Sehun doesn’t contain his victorious smile that he flashes in the direction of his previously gloating brothers. 

Although his next two shots only hit the inner circle and not quite the bullseye, one perfect shot out of five is enough to satisfy him, giving a servant his bow before walking off towards the edge of the audience, and subtly inching towards Kyungsoo and the guards.

He notices the King turn to Kyungsoo and speak, Kyungsoo bowing immediately, and Sehun’s heart flips in his fear of being found out-- but as he nears, his ears pick up the King’s words, and he releases a breath in relief.

“You taught him well,” his father was saying, and Kyungsoo bows low again. “What prompted you to?”

Kyungsoo, still bent over, responds, not daring to raise his eyes from the straggly grass underfoot. “He was very eager to learn,” he stutters. “I appreciate that, and uhh… he was a pleasure to teach.”

The King turns to look at Sehun in poorly disguised surprise. “Was he?”

Kyungsoo glances up at Sehun, seemingly confused. “Is he not in other learning areas?”

“Sehun despises private tutors,” Sehun’s father responds, and it strikes Sehun that the King still seems more comfortable with Kyungsoo even though he’s no longer the overseeing General of the Royal Army, especially considering the dark expression on General Yun Gwan’s face.

Sehun doesn’t even try to refute the statement--it’s one of many reasons why he’s so utterly hopeless and uneducated at anything, except for horse riding and now archery, both taught by Kyungsoo. 

“However, he seems to do well with you.”

At this, Kyungsoo kneels down on one leg, head bowed. “I do not deserve such high praise from Your Majesty.”

The King hums, and Sehun frowns, hoping his father would allow Kyungsoo to stand soon, but the King doesn’t mention it-- he eyes the uncomfortable way Kyungsoo’s body bends and bites his bottom lip, nearly missing what his father says next.

“In this case, Commander Do will now be training Prince Sehun in general skills such as archery and swordsmanship in the future.”

He immediately looks up, eyes wide and jaw slack. One glance at Kyungsoo tells him he reacted the exact same way-- though Kyungsoo quickly looks down at the ground again.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for placing such trust in me, Your Majesty,” he responds, voice strong, and Sehun’s fighting an ecstatic smile-- Kyungsoo only shoots a small grin back at him after he’s allowed to stand again, and Sehun’s blood bubbles at the warmth of knowing they share the same joy.

“Good,” the King hums, before his eyes travel to his son standing on his other side. “What do you think about that, Sehun?”

Sehun bows slightly, mostly to hide his smile. “I am pleased with it, Your Majesty. I will listen to Commander Do well.”

  
  
  


Sehun lets the string go, the corners of his lips quirking up in satisfaction at the thud of the arrowhead, landing in the innermost circle. He turns to grin big and wide at the Commander watching him a few steps away.

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, moving closer to point at Sehun’s arm. “Don’t forget to not lift your right elbow so much, it influences the stability of the arrow when it sails through the air. Your Highness,” Kyungsoo adds the honourifics after a moment of consideration, and Sehun tries his best to not snicker.

Kyungsoo had decided that for the second day of the hunt they would continue to practice archery with the targets, especially considering the King’s allowance for Kyungsoo to teach him. The soldier gently takes the bow from Sehun’s hand, deliberately letting their fingers brush, in order to hold it up and demonstrate the model way to hold the bow. In contrast to Kyungsoo’s professionality, Sehun can’t keep the smile off his face.

Which is why, perhaps, he earns himself so many strange looks from his brothers.

Whenever he glances at them, he notices the formed groups that they segregated in-- the fourth and fifth stick close to Wang Wu’s side, and Sehun is initially surprised that the Crown Prince doesn’t have the most supporters, but the second Prince, Wang Pil does, his group including the third, seventh, eighth and ninth. They’re a formidable bunch, talking amongst themselves and casting occasional looks over at Sehun, perhaps discussing Sehun’s importance to them, since he’s allied with Commander Do.

Wang Seo, with the tenth and eleventh Princes, don’t seem as involved as the other groups, making conversations with the Princesses, and Sehun would have believed that if he didn’t know better. Princess Heungsu and Ansu, direct sisters of the tenth and eleventh Princes, ended up confiding that they were at discomfort with the amount of ministers visiting their homes to talk to their brothers, or servants popping in to relay whatever information they gathered from eavesdropping on the older Princes.

Sensing Sehun’s gaze in their direction, Princess Heungsu meets his eyes, giving him a courteous smile while her younger counterpart, Ansu, dips her head at him.

Sehun smiles in return before turning back to Kyungsoo, who’s watching him with the usual soft look in his eyes that Sehun has come to associate with himself.

Sehun steps closer, pretending to be fitting the arrow to the bow and string, muttering his hopes that his sisters, who treat him well, would at least be kept out of the fight of the brothers, voice low enough for just Kyungsoo to hear. Kyungsoo looks up at the Princesses and back down at Sehun.

“I hope so too,” he sighs. “You too. I never thought I would regret you learning more about the Palace, but sometimes I wish you were still that naive boy you were, just so the others would refrain from targeting you.”

Sehun smiles before stepping away to move into his stance and take aim again. “I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Gyo hyung-nim.”

Sehun dips his head, stopping dead in his tracks before trying to walk past his seventh brother.

He's stopped with a disapproving hum, enough for Sehun to turn his head curiously, still a little absentminded and light headed from the kisses Kyungsoo left on his lips a few minutes ago before they parted ways again. The soldier had passed by one of the gardens he knows Sehun likes to spend his time in on his way to meeting one of the ministers back to report from the Northern border. Sehun was there as he had expected, fleeting kisses shared behind the thick trunk of a magnolia tree.

His brother stands in the doorway of the corridor, and Sehun steps back to give him his full attention.

“Where have you been?”

Sehun frowns, and he genuinely can't think of what Gyo means. He's not certain there's more than classes and assemblies for him to show his face in, but of course, his brother is here to prove him wrong. What else are they good for, aside from that and pointless squabbles over who has the wealthiest in-laws and who has the largest property?

So instead, Sehun chooses to answer his question with a question of his own. “Where was I supposed to be?”

“That’s right, admit you're not a part of the family,” Gyo scoffs. “The morning tea was this morning, imbecile. Did you happen to forget? Do you even have enough maids to remind you?”

“Why are you blocking the way?”

Sehun quickly spins around, dipping his head once more and muttering a greeting to his ninth brother whilst swearing under his breath at his misfortune-- cornered by two brothers who just happen to be standing on the same side, rooting for the same person. He watches as they share a look, and he sighs soundlessly, knowing that they must already be well versed at working with each other in their support for Wang Pil.

“Oh, twelfth.” Jinhan glances at Sehun. “Didn't think I'd see you here. Especially not when you didn't turn up earlier.”

“I was just saying the same thing,” Gyo drawls, before Jinhan cuts him off.

“Oh no that's right,” when he turns, Sehun cowers back the slightest at the strange look he gives him. “I totally forgot to tell you about the morning tea gathering. Sorry for making you look ignorant and careless, Sehun-ah.”

Sehun bites down his grimace because of course, of course Jinhan would frame him to show him negatively in front of their other brothers and the King.

He dips his head again, muttering meek words as insincere as his brother's apology.

“Where are you off to? Training with Commander Do?”

Ever since they returned from the hunt a few days ago, his relationship with Kyungsoo has been so extensively discussed in the political context that Sehun’s become desensitized to it. All his brothers are speculating motives for Sehun's ‘sudden’ interest in education and politics, and Sehun doesn't need to guess to know that this is yet another attempt at getting that information out of him.

“Speaking of Commander Do,” Gyo speaks up naturally, and by this point Sehun can't tell whether this was rehearsed and practiced to perfection or whether this is all improvisational and the two of them just work spectacularly together. “Wu was the one who suggested to demote him from the General position.”

He looks thoughtful, but Sehun cuts in.

“Are you trying to convince me to side with you to depose of Wu as the Crown Prince?”

“You've gotten much smarter than I remember.”

“Why would I help you?”

“The King is already thinking of getting rid of Wu.”

The dismissive tone is what shocks Sehun, eyes quickly swiveling back to rest on Gyo.

“What??”

“Commander Do was always Wu’s right hand man in the battlefield. Why else would the King take the Commander away from him… and moreso tell him to serve you?” his brother’s raised eyebrow is directed on Sehun. “Why would you need Commander Do?

Sehun thinks of Kyungsoo's rationality, his steadfast belief in what's right-- Sehun questions himself, asks himself ‘what's right?’ as he shoulders past Gyo.

He asks himself ‘what's right?’ yet again at assembly the next morning, standing in his usual position at the back of the Princes, watching the main players manipulate the game that they live in.

He most certainly knew that it was the King himself, in his anger and disbelief, who demoted Kyungsoo. The whole case is a weak argument that Gyo made to him, especially considering Sehun is one of the only people who know the reason why. The secret is kept between himself, Kyungsoo and the King, though the King still doesn't know the full story behind it all. He doesn't know the way his son and his soldier hold each other, leave lingering touches on each other's skin, kiss each other when no one's looking, or secretively glance at each other like they're doing now.

Sehun knows that Wu was raised to be a King. Not only strong on the battlefield, according to Kyungsoo, but also well-read with a clear, fair mind, and Sehun respects that. He might have his own lingering bitterness for how Wu simply watches, never stepping in in Sehun's defense whenever he's picked on, but there's no denying his success as a King.

He startles when he hears his name, confusedly watching a minister he has come to associate with allies of Wu step forwards.

Sehun isn't sure what he expected him to say, make an announcement of, but it's certainly not the accusation that rings out across the Hall.

“Is it not suspicious, that a Prince who previously showed no interest in learning the martial arts has taken it up all of a sudden when it’s offered by Commander Do? Does he have no alternate purpose behind it?”

Sehun gapes as whispers break out over the people, and he feels Kyungsoo's eyes on him. 

“What advantage does he have to gain from training with Commander Do? Alliance, perhaps?” seventh Prince Wang Gyo continues, an equally big supporter of the Crown Prince, eliciting even more discussion amongst the subjects regarding Sehun's apparent greed towards the throne. 

He should've known to step more carefully around Gyo and Jinhan too, considering their addition to the discussion.

“Is it not suspicious that Sehun seems to be affiliating himself with the Lee family an awful lot?” Gyo glances over his shoulder at Sehun from where he had stepped out of the ranks of Princes to stand in the centre aisle in front of the King. “Are you not close with the Princesses from the Lee clan?”

Immediately the look on the King’s face darkens, and Sehun’s internal panic begins to bubble over.

King Sukjong is particularly known as a kind and diplomatic King, always seeking to maintain friendly connections with the powerful families and peaceful negotiations even with the Jurchen before they launched attacks on the royal family. And even Sehun, with little to no experience, knows how much his father hates infighting, especially amongst his own sons.

He believes brothers must be connected by blood, and this bond is not to be overlooked. All the competing was hidden-- until this point.

The King turns his disapproving look upon Sehun, frowning in his disappointment that even his youngest would make moves in attempting to betray his brothers and break familial ties.

“Is that so, Sehun? Have you been plotting with the Lee clan?”

Sehun frowns but before he could muster up the nerve to speak in front of the scrutinising glares, a familiar voice drowns out his thoughts and the bubbles of anxiety in his stomach over flow.

“It's not true, Your Majesty.” Kyungsoo had knelt to speak, and everyone's heads turn towards him. “The twelfth Prince was with me during the entire duration of the Hunt, and did not attempt such things.”

“That's the thing, Commander.” Sehun sucks in a breath, watching as Wang Gyo eyes the soldier with a raised brow. “Doesn't the effort Sehun place in training show it all?”

“That’s enough.” King Sukjong slams a palm down on the wooden desk in front of him. “I don't want to hear any more of this about the twelfth Prince. I was the one who assigned Commander Do to him.”

Sehun tunes out, the rest of the assembly where the different parties argue over each other's choices and suggestions to solve political issues of no interest to him. He doesn't need any further warning to know exactly what would come in the very near future. It all serves to remind him of what he already knows-- that his feelings burn bright deep in his chest for Kyungsoo, and that he perhaps shouldn't play with this fire the way he does. 

Sehun can't help it though, not when Kyungsoo slams him against the wall of his bedroom, hot mouth already on his the moment the door shut behind them. Sehun whines softly, Kyungsoo swallowing down the noises, his rough hands weathered from wielding his sword cupping Sehun's jaw. 

Sehun's arms wind around the soldier's waist, pulling him in, kissing him equally eagerly, uncaring for the noises their lips against each other, again and again. 

They kiss like starved wolves, wolves that dance around the legs of hunters to get to each other. Their short meetings aren't enough to satisfy each other, and even when Sehun pulls away, he rests his face against Kyungsoo's neck so that his lips are still touching his skin.

“You shouldn't have done that,” he murmurs, and Kyungsoo hums confusedly. “You shouldn't have spoken up for me. They already suspect me of plotting against the others because I've apparently allied with you.”

Kyungsoo gives a small moment of pause. “I can't tell whether they want to end you or to recruit you.”

“I'm not worth their time, are you kidding?” Sehun scoffs quietly, tracing the edge of Kyungsoo's robes with one finger. “You have an army behind you, you're much more valuable to them. They want to prevent me forming ties with you.”

Kyungsoo turns slightly to drop a kiss onto Sehun's ear, the Prince squirming a little and giggling. “The King appointed me to teach you, I'd like to see who argues against that. Unless you think we should meet less until this passes?”

Kyungsoo feels Sehun instantly pout against his neck. “Yes but. I want to see you. All the time.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, smoothing a hand over Sehun’s broad shoulders. “We'll be fine,” he whispers. “I'm here to protect you. Not as a guard,” he quickly adds, and Sehun laughs in reminder of Kyungsoo's stubbornness on their first journey. He allows himself to melt in Kyungsoo's hold, with Kyungsoo's promises as his lullaby, soothing his ears tired from trying to pick out alternate meanings of everyone's every word.

  
  


Kyungsoo steps up to him, a gentle hand resting on his elbow.

“That was good, I'm impressed the technique came so easily to you. One thing though, is you make it easy for the opponent to block your sword.”

Sehun nods, letting Kyungsoo move his arm backwards immediately after he was meant to strike, watching intently as he makes a striking motion with Sehun's hand that wields a standard single-edged sword.

“Not during daylight hours,” Kyungsoo says with a glance around the paved courtyard around them, pushing Sehun’s face away when he leans in for what he thinks is a well-deserved smooch. “Let’s actually try to get this right.”

Sehun sighs, moving his sword away to tug on his arm, whining in his spoilt-Prince way. Kyungsoo barely budges, only raising an eyebrow at him with his arms crossed over his chest despite Sehun's efforts, and the Prince pouts.

“Okay fine. We can run through it one more time.”

Perhaps it's the added bonus of Kyungsoo's continuous praises, reassurances that this is something he's allowed to learn, that he's valuable enough to learn, that makes him like swordsmanship practice so much more.

The utter defenseless feeling of fear in his chest whenever he watched Kyungsoo take on whole groups of attackers during their journey certainly spurs him on, continuing despite how foreign the heavy weight of the sword is and how the names for such similar weapons are so different.

Sehun moves his left leg to brace himself, defensively brandishing the sword in front of his body in a posture he’s certain is correct--and it’s confirmed by the approving hum Kyungsoo gives him.

“Alright, now try leaning backwards to the left, stepping back and swap your sword hand to your left.” 

Sehun’s eyes take in the way Kyungsoo’s limbs move, and when he replicates it, he drinks in all of Kyungsoo’s impressed praises.

“Good, that was good. That’s a defensive move, so now try putting up your right hand to block a blow at the same time, because then your left hand is attacking their exposed side-- yes, that’s right.”

Sehun glows, imitating the way Kyungsoo then swings a hand to push the imaginary opponent they just struck down away. Kyungsoo asks him to face him, get in his stance, circling each other.

“Eyes on my feet, Sehun. Watch where I begin to put my weight. It tells you where I’m going to strike.” Just as he says that, Kyungsoo fake lunges to the right but steps towards the left, Sehun just managing to block him in time with his own sword. “See?”

Sehun nods, eyes glancing every so often at Kyungsoo’s feet. And when he strikes this time, he’s prepared for it. Sehun side-steps the fake lunge to the left, parrying the blow Kyungsoo swung to the right side of his face, letting his sword clang on the front of Kyungsoo’s glinting armour.

“That’s right,” Kyungsoo pants, drawing away and using a sleeve to dab at his sweat. “But in an actual battle you won’t be striking me on the front, would you?”

“No, hyung-nim,” Sehun chirps, delighting in the way Kyungsoo grins wide and pleased at him.

It’s later when Sehun strikes out the way he’s seen Kyungsoo do while moving to one side to dodge a blow simultaneously that Kyungsoo calls it a day, nothing but praises leaving his lips.

All of a sudden the exhaustion of the day seems to weigh down Sehun’s limbs even more than the sword does and he manages to drag himself over to the stone steps that lead to the patio that they had been practicing under, sweat shining on his brow and temple, but smile bright.

He flops in a messy tangle of limbs onto the ground, letting out a long sigh of simple satisfaction, squinting up at the sky bloodied with the sunset.

Kyungsoo joins him and pulls him up into a seated position, taking a seat beside him.

“You improved like crazy,” Kyungsoo says quietly, carefully sliding his beloved sword into it’s beautifully embellished golden sheath. Sehun can’t help the wide grin that stretches across his face, because suddenly he feels worth it--worth Kyungsoo’s time and effort when he’s been told he’s not worth anyone else’s. He feels valuable, and yes it’s only been one day of training, but he’s never felt so far from useless, and he’s basking in this feeling of being content with himself and what he does with his life for once.

They sit in silence, passing Kyungsoo’s water flask between each other, Sehun occasionally reaching up to use his sleeve to dab at the beads of sweat at Kyungsoo’s hair line. It’s not until he thinks he can see the shine of the first star in the night sky that’s still bright from the sunset that he opens his mouth to give a voice to the words he’s been tossing over in his head.

“I was never taught because I’m only the maknae Prince, you know?” he doesn’t look at Kyungsoo, even though he could feel the man’s gaze on him as he continues. “I don’t do anything and I won’t ever need to do anything. I have no place in the fight for the throne that we all know is bound to happen sooner or later, which equals no value in this…. Household. This hierarchy.” 

Kyungsoo hums, like he understands that ‘household’ is a much less accurate way of describing the Palace.

“But I like learning it,” Sehun mumbles. “It makes me feel like I do have a value.”

When he glances up at the soldier, he finds him still openly staring at him, because it’s hitting Kyungsoo how this is clearly not the bratty, immature Prince he was assigned to escort on a journey that seemed so long ago.

No, this is an insecure young man, beaten down by the pressures placed on him by his household and competitive infighting of the family he was born into. This is a hesitant young man, struggling to find his self worth. This is a beautiful young man, in love with a rough and unexpressive soldier.

Sehun’s beginning to feel his blood heat up under Kyungsoo’s unbroken gaze, embarrassment after his slight confession tinting his cheeks a pretty pink the shade of the clouds above their heads because Kyungsoo still isn’t saying anything.

“I never thought of it like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you don’t like the lack of responsibility.”

Sehun bites his bottom lip. “Well… you have a job,” he says, pointedly turning to glance at Kyungsoo. “I have nothing really to… live for? Fight for, in this political system? Aside from you.” he sends Kyungsoo a shy look from the corner of his eyes. “That’s why I’m really glad it’s you that’s training me.”

A wide, flustered smile blooms on Kyungsoo’s lips, and he reaches for one of Sehun’s hands with his own. He wraps his short fingers the best he could around Sehun’s long ones. And when he speaks, voice low and whispery in the calm of the evening, it’s paired with genuine gazes and soft smiles.

“Me too.”

  
  
  
  


It was a bad suggestion. Even Sehun could tell already.

Wang Seo was verbally cornered by the supporters of the Crown Prince, and Sehun sighed under his breath.

He made the mistake of going against the majority's suggestions to continue serving the Song in the South as a means to allow them to maintain order in Namgyeong, suggesting instead that they break ties with the powerful Song family.

It didn't take long for fourth Prince Wang Bo to step up in the middle of the Hall.

“Is this directly going against Crown Prince Wu, Seo?”

And even Sehun knew that one of Wu’s wives are blood related to the Song in the South, and that of course they would take this as a personal attack against him.

“The Song is a valuable ally that is strongly linked to the monarchy through Wu. By making that suggestion, are you inadvertently advising His Majesty to depose of Wu as the Crown Prince?”

Though the sixth Prince Seo tried to calmly deny the accusation, it was enough for the King to sigh in his exhaustion and send him off to supervise the North-Eastern frontier.

He's been away for a week or two by now, and Sehun has never seen the King look worse.

Of course he's not complaining that assemblies end sooner now, with the King retiring early from the Hall to rest, but it all means things in the Palace are going to spiral out of control without the King to hold everything together.

And he was right.

His father is by no means young, it's the tenth year of his rule over Goryeo already-- even last year, when Sehun journeyed with Kyungsoo, there was already enough debate amongst the officials over whether His Majesty should make the journey to the Southern Capital. The Hunt this year was no different-- though there is a usual actual hunt led by the King, it was replaced by other competitive activities for the same reason.

Perhaps that only weakened his already deteriorating health, moreso considering King Sukjong rose to the throne at a relatively old age, only after the previous King died.

“How's the King?”

Sehun sees the tenseness in Yun and Hae’s shoulders, his tenth and eleventh brothers standing just in front of him. The Lee Princesses are at his side, their eyes on the doctor who has briefly left the King’s side to speak to them at the threshold of the King’s quarters.

“The root of the problem seems to be age and stress-- His Majesty hasn't been sleeping well recently because of the rebellions at the Tumen river plains, and it has taken a toll on his health.”

 

“The Tumen river plains?”

Sehun nods, and Kyungsoo drops his sword, wiping his brow with his sleeve. Sehun leans closer to do it for him, fishing out his own handkerchief from the inner folds of his robes and lowering his sword in the process.

“You said you advanced into that land when you fought the Northern Jurchen previously right? What do you think about it?”

“The King’s been trying to build up the border defences and the military capabilities,” Kyungsoo sighs, taking a seat on the stone steps of their usual practice place. Sehun nods because if King Sukjong is well known in Goryeo for one thing, it would be his dedication to military advancements. “Honestly,” Kyungsoo drops his voice but Sehun’s already pressed up close to his side. “I think it would be smart to build forts there.”

“Forts?” Sehun frowns, his eyes on Kyungsoo’s handsome side profile. “Why not a wall to keep them from trying to take land that Goryeo has now won over?”

“A wall is very defensive don’t you think?” Kyungsoo hums. “It makes it seem like we’re very protective. We’re not. We simply want to maintain peace, but that doesn’t mean we’re by any means afraid of them, which is what a wall might imply.”

Sehun nods mutely, silent in his admiration for his lover.

“That’s why I think forts would be a good idea, but now that it’s Yun Gwan,” Kyungsoo sighs, shrugging. “I don’t think it’ll happen.”

They both know what General Yun Gwan could be like. While Kyungsoo had the respect of all those he commanded and more, Yun Gwan at times seems to try too hard to fit in the large shoes Kyungsoo left behind, enforcing unnecessary rules with unnecessary methods, yet at times also seems to try too hard to get along with his subjects. Kyungsoo was miraculously good at keeping both his strict image as well as an approachable nature, and Sehun is mad at himself for taking so long to let Kyungsoo in his life.

But of course, not everyone can be as incredible as Kyungsoo, and Sehun chuckles quietly to himself at the thought.

“What are you laughing at?”

Sehun reaches out to briefly thumb across Kyungsoo’s cheek, eyes crinkled with the smile that he directs towards him. “Nothing,” he grins. “Though perhaps you should bring it up to the King.”

“What?”

“The fort idea.”

“To the King?” Kyungsoo scoffs dismissively. “He has enough to worry about.”

“That’s exactly it,” Sehun interjects smoothly. “According to the doctor, he’s stressed enough about the issue at Tumen to fall ill from it. Your solution would help him.”

Kyungsoo shoots him a look, moving closer to lean his chin on Sehun’s shoulder, nose just brushing Sehun’s sweaty neck, deeply inhaling his scent despite it. Sehun grins like a teenage girl, shuffling the slightest bit closer.

“We all know that the King’s illness doesn’t have one causation. It would’ve happened sooner or later,” Kyungsoo whispers.

“Still-- don’t mind Yun Gwan. As long as you’re alive, you’re still the one the King acknowledges and trusts more.”

Kyungsoo hums, silent for a moment. “Maybe I will then. Relieve some of His Majesty’s concerns.”

Sehun nods as Kyungsoo sighs, blowing hot air onto his skin. They both know what’s coming, but remain silent staring up at the sky. It’s all still so peaceful--only because of each other.

Sehun isn’t sure whether he would still be alive without Kyungsoo, but he does know that he would survive for Kyungsoo.

He doesn’t know what he could do without Kyungsoo, but he does know that Kyungsoo would survive for him, too.

That reassurance, though unspoken, is the sole reason he could still sit here like this, enjoying the beauty of the pink on the clouds from the sunset.

  
  
  
  
  


He searches for him the moment they gather in the Great Hall the next morning.

The previous day’s assembly was revoked in full respect for the Princes and Princesses-- now that they’ve been killed. With the King too ill to chase up the offenders and the throne at stake, parties are clamouring over each other, shooting each other down, in order to rise to sit on it-- or raise each other onto it, even it means kicking down others.

With sixth Prince Seo gone to the North-Eastern frontier, whoever wanted to elevate Wang Wu and Wang Pil decided to act on the family of Princess Wonshin from the Incheon Lee clan-- including Sehun’s tenth and eleventh brothers, Yun and Hae, and Princesses Heungsu and Ansu.

All dead, in one night.

No traces of the murder was discovered-- except perhaps a pot of tea.

The day after their death would have been the funeral ceremony, during which Sehun remained in his room in his white robes, but the following day sees all the ministers and Princes still dressed in white in mourning.

Sehun tries to not think of how Kyungsoo looks angelic in all white, a shocking contrast to his usual black or grey robes, attempting to focus his attention back on the debate at hand, a mess of harsh words and accusations thrown around without the King to direct the assembly.

“What evidence do you have that it’s Wu’s side?” Wang Bo snarls, met with the rebuttal from Jinhan.

“So then what right do you have to accuse Pil hyung-nim?”

And Sehun knows his brothers and their supporters would be coming for him sooner or later. He must make a choice between the sides, and the wrong choice would probably lead in his death. But it is because of that reason that he knows he must make a choice.

He doesn’t even get the chance to approach Kyungsoo when he feels a hand clasp on his shoulder, his blood running cold.

Granted, he knew that he’s a moving target for his brothers, but he also hoped it would take them longer, give him more time to think. But he’s spun around, meeting the intense gaze of Gyo, and he cowers back.

Perhaps it’s the intensity of the situation that allows his seventh brother to forego all sugar-coated praises and empty promises. Straight off the bat his brother attempts to reel Sehun in to support their second brother, and Sehun knows that it’s all partially because of Kyungsoo too-- of course they would want Kyungsoo on their side as well.

“Your Highness, Prince Sehun?”

Sehun spins around at the voice, eyes wide, cutting off Wang Gyo without a care.

Kyungsoo straightens up from his bow, expression guarded. “You didn’t come to a week of swordsmanship training now, if you are free I think it would be a good idea to practice this afternoon.”

Sehun watches as the flicker of irritation on Gyo’s face comes and goes in a moment-- he would’ve missed it if he didn’t know what to look for-- and he smiles courteously at the Commander instead.

“Commander Do, is Sehun being disobedient again?” he smiles, and Kyungsoo smiles back, tight-lipped and distanced. “You must excuse him, he’s been in quite low spirits from the events of yesterday-- he was quite close with the Lee Princesses. We all were.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Kyungsoo sighs. “They were both extremely lovely, and that thought that they are no longer with us is saddening.”

Sehun allows a moment of pause before meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Shall we head to practice?” he nods at his brother. “If you’ll excuse us, Gyo hyung-nim.”

He walks off by Kyungsoo’s side without another word, uncaring whether Gyo approved or not. He follows Kyungsoo in complete silence, until he reaches corridors that are unfamiliar, in a small room he’s never been in.

Noticing Sehun’s expression of wonder, Kyungsoo smiles at him, pushing him into a wooden armchair, and standing in front of him.

“My room was bigger when I was the General,” he sighs.

“This is your room?” Sehun gapes.

“It is. Do you like it?” Sehun nods, and Kyungsoo sighs. “Don’t listen to Wang Gyo.”

The Prince’s eyes fly to Kyungsoo’s face, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“He’s lying. Gyo is a traitor, and he wants you to side with Wang Pil. That’s a trap.”

Sehun’s frown deepens, eyes not leaving his lover’s face. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, Wang Gyo is actually on Wu’s side, not Pil’s as everyone thinks.”

“Then why does he keep trying to recruit supporters for Pil? And why does he keep trying to demote Wu? Isn’t that disadvantageous for him?”

“No it’s not. Think about how he’s making Pil’s supporters seem by continuously targeting Wu.” Kyungsoo pauses, eyes running across Sehun’s facial features. “Firstly, the King would not have a great impression of Pil and his followers if he makes them come off as competitive and pushy and always wanting to demote Wu. Secondly, because of that, Pil’s followers would be the first to go when Wu rises to the throne.”

“How are you so sure?” Sehun whispers, subconsciously pouting and Kyungsoo runs a hand through Sehun’s hair.

“I escorted Gyo to the Hunt.”

“But how are you so sure it’s Wu that will be King?”

“It’s always the Crown Prince, unless they kill him by the time King Sukjong dies. That isn’t going to happen, because he’s shielded by Bo and Hyo, and Gyo is passing on wrong information to the opposing group in order to protect Wu. All the big aristocratic families are supporters of Wu, so even if more of your brothers support Pil, more influential people support Wu.”

Kyungsoo sighs, and loops his arms around Sehun’s neck.

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to make the wrong choice and side with Wang Pil. Because you know that once a Prince becomes a King, they will kill all their male relatives who were not their most trusted supporters right?”

  
  
  
  


Sehun shakes in his white robes, trying to fill his thoughts with Kyungsoo-- that only makes him miss him more though. He wants Kyungsoo, he wants Kyungsoo to wrap him up in his burly arms and whisper in his ear that it’ll be fine, that it’ll pass and that one day this fear would leave him.

Kyungsoo must be busy though, dealing with officials and advisors, organising to heighten the security around the Palace, but Sehun knows that won’t cut it.

The murderer of his brothers and sisters was found hanging from the ceiling of a storage closet by a noose, a simple maid thrown into the politics just like how Sehun’s naivety was scattered in the whirlwind of all the events in the Palace.

The maid is clearly not the intended murderer though.

That’s all Sehun was told as recent information, and he can’t help his mind from wandering, theorising, and feeling more alone than ever before in his own room.

The moon is high in the sky, shining down through his window, yet Sehun stays curled in the most shadowed corner of his bedroom, gazing at how the moonlight makes his white bedsheets glow in a somehow haunted yet ethereal way. It makes his skin prick, makes his heart thud for Kyungsoo’s warmth and comfort.

He’s still dressed similarly in all white, contrasting black hair falling down and framing his face without his headbands. They’re in all the cool colours that he likes, which would be disrespectful for the dead.

Sehun slowly reaches up, tying his hair in a bun the way he sees Kyungsoo tie it. The thought of Kyungsoo allows him to stand slowly, reaching for a pin to stick into it, his white ribbon not quite long enough to hold all his hair firmly together.

He’s not quite used to the weight of the metal pin, but it reminds him of Kyungsoo. 

Sehun can’t sleep from it all, the grief, the fear, that’s been eating at his brain since the morning that he was told two of his brothers and two sisters were dead, which has begun to eat into his sleep during the silence of the night as well.

The heat of the daytime debates between the brothers, each all too eager to jump to conclusions about the other party, leaves Sehun unsure and jittery in his anxiousness, feeling the confinement within the Palace like an insistent poking in his side, irritating, unable to be ignored.

So Sehun’s entire body jumps two feet into the air when he hears the slightest tapping on his window.

Sparks of fear fly around the nerves around his body and his hairs stand on end as he presses himself further into the corner, shaking like a leaf, eyes on the window.

He shrinks further into himself as he watches a hand stretch up to tap slightly against the wooden frame-- a moment before he jumps up, recognising even the silhouette of the hand.

He jumps onto his bed, wrenching open his window as quietly as he possibly could.

He nearly breaks down on the spot, eyes adjusting to the moonlight reflecting off the pavement outside and spotting his beloved soldier standing in the shadows just outside his window. He has one finger over his lips as a reminder for silence, so Sehun clasps a hand over his mouth.

Kyungsoo leans up, stretching up on his tiptoes, and grabs Sehun’s free hand. 

“I’m getting us out of here,” he whispers into Sehun’s palm before lowering back down.

Kyungsoo gives him a soft smile as he retreats back into the shadows of the building, mouthing a silent ‘let’s go’ into the moonlit air between them, and the effect of it is nearly instantaneous. Kyungsoo’s here, and Kyungsoo’s telling him they’re getting out of this place that he’s called home for forever, and it’s all he can think of when he whisks around his room, throwing on two more layers of dark clothing and tucking a generous number of pieces of gold and silver jewelry into the pockets in the gowns.

Kyungsoo’s come, he’s come to whisk Sehun away in the middle of the night, and it’s all he’s ever wanted.

Kyungsoo catches him perfectly silently when Sehun climbs out of his window and drops down, and he grabs Sehun’s hand, dragging him into the gloom, making sure they’re just skirting the walls of the buildings as they move.

The night air is cool against Sehun’s exposed forehead, but Kyungsoo’s hand around his own is warm.

He has no idea where they’re headed, undoubtedly placing all his trust in Kyungsoo who seems to know the way better than Sehun does-- until Sehun recognises the trees around them.

It’s the forest at the back of the Palace, leading straight out of the city. It must still be guarded though, but Sehun suddenly understands when he hears quiet snorting in the darkness ahead.

Here, they move much faster with the crunching of leaves underfoot, making up for time lost sneaking around the Palace buildings to keep quiet. They run up to Kyungsoo’s horse, who paws at the ground upon noticing them, and this time Sehun jumps onto her back of his own accordance, slipping his feet out of the stirrups for Kyungsoo to slot his own in as he swings onto her back just behind Sehun.

Immediately she sets off at a jog, quickly turning into a dash through the trees, her mane whipping into Sehun’s face with the speed-- but Kyungsoo’s got his arms around him, as he always used to, holding the reins and there’s nowhere else Sehun would rather be. He may be galloping at full speed through a forest at midnight, leaving behind the mess that is his family, the mess that he grew up with and leaving with a man he’s only known and loved for a year-- he wouldn’t regret, he tells the moon silently when he glances up to see slivers of it flicker through the canopy overhead.

He’s escaping from the uncertainty of the future, from a place where one wrong word against the wrong person, one step in the wrong spot would land you killed. It’s everything Sehun’s ever wanted.

The gate looms up ahead through the darkness, and Sehun wouldn’t have even recognised it if not for the sounds of men throwing confused shouts at each other, picking up on the thundering of hooves coming from the forest.

There’s no actual gate, only a threshold guarded by a few foot soldiers. Sehun notices Kyungsoo’s wearing his armour for the first time, sadly not the General armour he used to wear-- but the leather belt is still there.

Kyungsoo easily take down two men one after another as he fishes out small daggers that Sehun doubts they’d need anyway, both blades hitting the guards with perfect precision despite the horse’s galloping. Kyungsoo unsheathes his sword at the last moment as they pass the threshold, leaning over to one side and striking down the last two men as they fly past them.

The forest stretches on, and Kyungsoo returns to holding Sehun in his arms, sword safely back in its sheath at his side.

Sehun takes note of the moon moving across the heavens, and entertains the idea of stopping for him and Kyungsoo to point out the stars at each other.

The horse doesn’t stop even after clearing the woods, continuing at full speed down a wide dirt road, not even after the early hours of morning already sees the moon fading from the sky.

Only when the road narrows does she slow down the slightest bit, and Sehun leans back into Kyungsoo’s chest the best he could.

“Do you know where we’re headed?”

“West,” Kyungsoo murmurs into Sehun’s ear. “Hopefully to the outskirts of the city of Pyongyang.”

Sehun nods, accepting everything Kyungsoo says without second thought.

“You do…” Kyungsoo trails off. “Wait, you did want to escape, didn’t you?”

With a huff, Sehun shoots a smile over his shoulder at his lover, even though he hates the uncertainty and raw insecurity in his voice.

“How long have I been asking you to take me elsewhere?”

“I wasn’t sure if you still wanted it.”

“ _ I’m  _ sure.”

Satisfied and reassured, Kyungsoo falls silent, and Sehun only continues tracking the path of the sun now, as it rises.

  
  
  
  
  


“Sehun! Sehun hyung-nim, what’s this flower called?”

Sehun smiles, walking the best he could with two girls clinging to the bottom of his dark blue robes. “That one’s not a flower, Jiwook. That’s a tree, it’s called a plum tree.”

The boys, already taller and bigger than the girls, reach up to Sehun even though they all stand up to Sehun’s stomach height.

The girls aren’t quite teenage age yet, but considering even the boys cling to Sehun, he thinks he has every bragging right regarding his teaching.

One of the girls tug on his robes, pointing. “What about that one?”

“That’s called the Queen of Night.”

The children clamouring around Sehun turn to him, confused.

“There’s no flower though?”

“That’s a flower?”

“It is,” Sehun laughs. “It flowers at night, and the flower dies before the sun comes up again. It’s all very mysterious, because it flowers once a year only, and it’s said that it’s big white petals are good to stew as a clear soup and has lots of medicinal qualities.”

One of the bigger boys run off to take a closer look at the yellowing plant. “I think Sehun hyung-nim is lying to us,” he exclaims loudly. “This thing can’t be a flower!”

“It’s true Taekhyun,” Sehun sighs. “When it flowers, I’ll get the flower for you kids and make it into soup. It’s sweet and magical, and it’ll grant all of you good luck.”

Just as the kids begin chorusing in their disbelief, a smooth, low voice cuts through their loud shouts.

“I’ve seen it, it’s real.”

Sehun whips around, a wide smile on his lips.

The children begin whispering to themselves, in disbelief that strict and serious martial arts instructor Kyungsoo seems to believe in the mysterious, magical flower Sehun speaks of.

“Come on children,” Kyungsoo snaps, beckoning at them. “Your time with Sehun is up. Get changed and go wait for our practice lesson.”

The children reluctantly disentangle themselves from where they attached to Sehun’s side, walking up to Kyungsoo and back into the house from the back garden. Though not an official school, one of the larger families in Pyongyang had been hoping for a supervisor to look after their children during the day, and when Kyungsoo and Sehun visited them and spoke of their teaching potential, Kyungsoo in martial arts and Sehun in knowledge of the natural world, they suggested for them to hold improvisational classes.

The children of neighbours and family friends were called in after a few weeks, resulting in this big group of all sorts of children.

It doesn’t affect what they teach-- the boys are equally interested in the world around them, constantly asking Sehun to tell stories about the constellations, and Kyungsoo teaches the little girls how to throw a good punch all the same.

“Stop bullying them,” Sehun teases, strolling after the last of the kids up to Kyungsoo, whose face instantly splits into a wide smile.

“I’m not bullying them.”

“Yes you are, why else do they all say I’m the nice, sweet one and you’re the mean, scary one?”

Their own place isn’t particularly lavish, the upstairs of a restaurant, the owners generously offering them a place to stay the night when they stumbled upon this small village located too far from the bustle of Pyongyang with such a small population-- it’s perfect for them though, and it’s all Sehun’s ever wanted.

Still, just like when they first arrived half a year ago, they help down in the restaurant whenever they aren’t working with the children, willingly providing manual labour rather than exhaust the elderly couple who run the place.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, extending a hand to pull Sehun in by a soft touch on his cheek. Sehun’s eyes flutter shut, smile still hanging on his lips when Kyungsoo kisses him, softly, gently, slowly. His arms wrap around Kyungsoo’s waist, feeling Kyungsoo stroke the side of his face as he presses his mouth to Sehun’s over and over.

It’s perfect, because they’re allowed to take any food from the restaurant for their meals--and there’s not enough space in the small upstairs room for another bed, which they certainly don’t complain about.

It means Sehun can rest his head on Kyungsoo’s chest instead of his own pillow, falling asleep with a smile on his face and the sound of Kyungsoo’s strong heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Or they’d lie awake in each other’s arms, alternating between pressing hot kisses against open mouths to gazing out the small window overhead at the night sky.

The room would be silent aside from an occasional choked gasp from Sehun when Kyungsoo sucks slowly on his bottom lip or Kyungsoo’s sighs when Sehun smooths his hands up and down his sides under the covers. They hope to not wake their hosts downstairs, because everything is so perfect.

In the first few months, Sehun couldn’t help his paranoia.

Good things never last, he had kept telling Kyungsoo. They have a place to eat, sleep, love each other, and even a job later on. It must all be too good to be true--but here they are, still in that small town on the edges of grasslands that lead out to the kingdom of Silla, and never once were they rejected by the locals, or hunted down by the royal family.

“You have a class to teach,” Sehun whispers as he pulls away, eyes fluttering open and chuckling when Kyungsoo sighs.

He takes a step back from Sehun before letting go of his waist. “I’ll see you later?”

Sehun hums, smiling. “See you later, hyung-nim.”

It was all too suspicious, was what Kyungsoo had originally thought. He was afraid the people of this town would eventually turn them into the royal family, and they’d both be executed for running away, perhaps-- but there are no ‘Wanted’ posters, and after months, their identities still remain a secret to all those around them.

A new King had been crowned in the year 1105-- King Yejong, previously known as Crown Prince Wang Wu.

The festivities didn’t even reach the village Sehun and Kyungsoo resided in, so they didn’t actively join any celebrations, preferring to help clean the house they live in, remaining hidden from any potential searches for them.

But Kyungsoo had left Byeolmuban army under General Yun Gwan and Commander Oh, strong enough leaders and certainly capable warriors. Though they did mourn for King Sukjong’s eventual death, it was followed by relief that it was indeed Wu who ascended the throne. As a strong fighter himself, yet also an appreciator of the necessity of education and arts, Wu was an outcome that managed to satisfy both of them.

And after all, Goryeo’s losses aren’t large enough to send out search parties-- an insignificant Prince and a Commander who has already been replaced are deemed unworthy of the effort it would take to chase them down and recapture them. The late Sukjong had been too ill to be concerned about their escape together, and Yejong who succeeded him instantly began looking into provincial divisions of the nation, forgetting cleanly about a younger brother and a loyal subject he once had.

Which suits them just fine.

Kyungsoo lets Sehun’s hand go, giving him a last soft smile before heading off to the awaiting kids.

“I love you,” he calls, a promise hanging in the air between them. A promise to see each other later, to have dinner together, to embrace each other until they fall asleep. A promise to spend the rest of their lives together, in this small village.

Sehun’s smile only stretches, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> WOW THANK YOU FOR GETTING IT THIS FAR!  
> 1\. yes all the characters are real historical figures. not all of them are actually King Sukjong's wives and sons (I took some from other kings LMAO stole their queens and sons) but they're all real characters  
> 2\. yes all events are real historical events that occurred during King Sukjong's reign (some details were altered though.)
> 
> thank you so much for reading <333 I really did put my everything into this fic, so I'll be really happy to know you appreciate it!!
> 
> hmu on social media:  
> IG: @djjdkim  
> Tumblr: @djjdkim  
> if you want writing prompts for EXO: @xoxoprompts  
> Twitter (for writing updates): @djjdkim


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